Just the Perfect Friendship
by deepfriedcake
Summary: After Lorelai realizes that she and Luke are not destined to be a couple, she worries that maybe they're not even real friends, and instantly begins a campaign to correct that.
1. Not Written in the Stars

**Author's Note:** Ready for a multi-chapter story? This takes place during mid-season 1. Lorelai doesn't give Max a second chance, and Rachel is not going to get that sudden urge to visit Connecticut.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 1: (Not) Written in the Stars<strong>

It was 10:17 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, the first day that had held a promise of spring. Lorelai slowed her pace as she approached the diner. She had put a great deal of thought into this for the last ten days, and had thought of nearly nothing else for the last eight. She had laid awake for hours last night, going over and over the list in her head and tweaking the words she planned to use on him. She was prepared. She was ready.

She glanced in through the window and saw that she was correct in her assumption that this would be a perfect time to have a discussion with Luke. The morning lull seemed to be in full-force. No one was at the counter at all, and she could only see two tables where anyone was seated.

She checked her appearance one last time. Her black suit was business-like but fun, with a pale pink pinstripe. Her silky blouse was the same pale pink. The skirt was short enough to show off her legs, but not so short that she looked cheap. Her hair was straight and pulled back into a no-nonsense ponytail.

For some reason she'd thought it important that she looked serious for this meeting. She wanted him to know she wasn't taking this lightly.

Squaring her shoulders, she started up the steps to the door. She frowned slightly as she looked down at the peep-toe black pumps she had on, the ones with the little pink bow on the back that matched her suit perfectly. Were they too frivolous?

_Don't be silly_, she told herself firmly, marching in through the door. _He likes you frivolous._

She couldn't spot Luke at all. Fighting nerves, she stood at the end of the counter, waiting.

After a minute or two Luke came rushing out of the kitchen, carrying steaming plates over to the couple at the one table. He made small talk for a moment before finally turning around and spotting Lorelai.

He moved behind the counter and grabbed the coffee pot automatically. "You need it to go?" he asked, assuming that's why she was standing there.

"Actually, Luke, no. That's―That's not why I'm here," she smiled nervously as she stumbled over the words. "I was wondering if I could talk to you."

"Sure," he shrugged. He motioned for her to go ahead.

"Um, I, uh, I was really hoping we could talk in private." Another nervous smile.

Luke's eyebrows rose as he looked at her speculatively. "In private?" he repeated.

"Yeah." Lorelai stuck her hands into her jacket pockets to keep herself from wringing her fingers. "This probably isn't a discussion you want to have down here."

Luke didn't answer. His face didn't change expression. Lorelai shifted from one foot to the other, waiting.

Finally, "Caesar! I'm goin' upstairs for a minute!" he called out.

"OK, Boss!" Caesar replied.

They walked over to the curtain that separated the diner from the stairs, and Luke pushed it aside and motioned for Lorelai to go ahead of him. She started up the stairs briskly, realizing that this was the first time she'd ever been invited up to his apartment. She worried a little about the fact that he was getting a good view of her backside and was incredibly grateful she hadn't chosen a shorter skirt.

She pressed up against the wall beside the door with "Office" painted on the frosted glass so that Luke could unlock the door. She admired the beautiful woodwork of this upstairs hallway. Almost everything downstairs in the diner was painted and she had no idea that the craftsmanship of this building was so beautiful.

Luke opened the door and again motioned for her to enter. Her quick eyes darted around, taking in the plaid flannel throw on the sofa, the protein drink mix on the counter, the―and here her eyes grew wide―the single bed clearly visible. So much mocking potential! But that wasn't today's agenda, so she bit down on all of the comments dying to come out.

"Do you want iced tea?" Luke asked, heading over to the refrigerator. "Or I could make hot tea, if you'd rather have that."

"No, uh, thanks, but I don't need anything."

Again, Luke looked at her strangely, and pushed shut the refrigerator door. "Well, have a seat then," he said, and pulled out one of the kitchen chairs.

"Um, no, thanks. I think I'll do better standing." Lorelai tried to laugh lightly, but it just showed more than anything how nervous she was.

With a sigh, Luke dropped down on the chair he'd pulled out. He crossed his arms over his chest. "You need money," he said knowingly.

"I…No. No, I don't need money!" Lorelai was staring at him, shocked.

"OK," he said mildly. "You don't need money."

"No. I…" The more she thought about it, the more irritated his smug comment was making her. "Why would you assume I need money? Do I look like I need money? Why would you say that!"

"Well," he said, shrugging, "Chilton's expensive. You went to your parents for that. I just thought maybe something else came up."

"No, something else did not come up!" she said hotly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of finances for me and for Rory! I run a business, you know, and I've managed to provide for us just fine for the past 15 years! You know that, Luke!"

"Fine," he said, still calm. "So what it is, then?"

"I…I…" She floundered around, trying to find the start of her carefully rehearsed words. Luke's unexpected comment about money had totally thrown her off her script. "It just…It seems…You and I have been friends for a long time now."

He nodded, agreeing with that.

"And sometimes…Sometimes it seems like we're more than friends." She'd started pacing, and now she turned to look at him quickly, noting his still impassive face. "Sometimes we have these…moments…when it seems like there's something more."

He made no comment.

She drew a deep breath and plunged on. "The first one I remember wasn't very long after we started coming to the diner. Rory got really excited about something and spun around on her stool, and I thought she was going to go over backwards, and apparently you thought the same thing, because we ended up smushed together behind her. And even though she was fine, we spent this…moment…pressed up against each other." She chanced a look at Luke, but he was staring down at the floor at his feet, making no indication that he remembered it at all.

She swallowed hard and continued. "And then, there was a Fourth of July, when I was heading towards the square, and you were standing on the steps outside the diner. I came up to try and talk you into going to the fireworks, and of course, you were all, 'No, Lorelai, I don't do those crazy town things' and I was all 'Come on, Luke, Fourth of July fireworks don't really count as a crazy town thing' and while we were arguing the first firework went off, and we both tilted our heads back at the same time to watch it, and we sort of leaned against each other, and it just seemed like maybe…"

She trailed off, since Luke's facial expression still hadn't changed. She decided she needed to sum up, quickly.

"And then, ten days ago, I went on a date with Jackson's crazy cousin Rune," she stated, suddenly calm. "You and I played poker, and we talked, and we had a good time. I was 99% sure you were going to ask me out," she declared, boldly.

His shoulders gave a slight twitch at that, but he didn't reply.

Her stubbornness was kicking in now. "Eight days ago I came into the diner, convinced you were going to ask me out. But you didn't," she pointed out. She waited in vain for him to speak.

She sighed. "OK." She pulled up all of her remaining courage. "I just thought that if there was something between us, we should try to find out what it is. I mean, you've felt them, too, right? All of these moments between us?"

He uncrossed his arms, pressing his fingers against the tabletop. He cleared his throat and stared at the table.

"No," he said.

Lorelai heard herself gasp out loud. "I…You…No, huh? I see. No." Her brain was spinning madly, possibly because the earth's rotation seemed out of whack. "OK, then. Well, I'm glad I brought this up." She was desperate to put some sort of good face on this. "I mean, this way I won't waste anymore time thinking that there's something there that isn't. So, good. Good talk."

Luke looked uneasy. "Lorelai, I―"

"No, no, it's OK." She flashed him what she hoped was her usual smile. "No, this was good, Luke. Thanks. Thanks for taking the time to talk to me. Really. Thanks!"

She nodded at him madly and bolted for the door. She clattered down the steps in her cute shoes and dashed across the diner floor and was out the door so quickly that she didn't even notice if anyone was still in the diner or not. She dove into the Jeep and pressed hard on the gas, frantic to get away from the scene of her humiliation. Halfway to the Independence Inn she pulled over onto a quiet side street and parked, breathing hard.

The leftover adrenaline surge from her flight was making her shaky. She rubbed her hands, trying to calm herself.

She'd practiced and practiced what she was going to say to him. She'd tried on seven outfits before she'd settled on this one. She'd run through numerous scenarios about what could happen once she dropped this bombshell on him, including several that were definitely rated 'M' for 'Mature.'

The one thing she'd never considered was that Luke Danes would tell her no.

* * *

><p>Later that afternoon, Seth, one of the high-schoolers Luke employed part-time at the diner, noticed that his boss had been standing motionless at the table by the window for at least five minutes. Cautiously he approached him.<p>

"Hey, Boss, you OK?" he questioned, nervously ready to jump back if needed.

Luke jerked, startled. "Yeah, Seth, I'm fine," he sighed. He watched as the kid went back to filling the napkin dispensers.

"I'm just the world's biggest idiot," he muttered to himself, once again staring out the window.

* * *

><p>Sitting in the Jeep that night, Lorelai looked at the distance she'd need to cover to get inside her house. Somehow it just seemed like that was too much to ask of her body. She'd managed to make it through the day, although she really wasn't sure how. Most of her brainpower was still processing the scene that had unfolded upstairs in Luke's apartment. She felt her cheeks blaze again when humiliation broke over her once more. How could she have been so wrong?<p>

She turned on her autopilot and headed to the house. The one thing she was thankful about was that for once she'd managed to keep her plans to herself. She hadn't confided in Rory or Sookie, so her humiliation was hers alone. All she'd have to do would be to keep on going to the diner and pretend like nothing had changed.

_Oh, yeah_, she mocked herself, _easy_.

She closed the door behind her and stood in the entry for a moment or two, just rubbing her forehead and preparing herself to face Rory without letting everything leak out about what she'd done that day.

A sudden tap on the door made her jump. Frowning, she looked at the outline of the person on the other side of the frosted glass. The knock had come so quickly after she entered the house, it almost seemed like whoever it was had been watching for her to come home.

"Yes?" she called out suspiciously, through the glass.

"Hey, Lorelai, it's me. Luke." He sounded like he wasn't quite sure of it.

She pulled open the door, clearly puzzled.

His gaze swept over her quickly before landing down at her feet. "I was just thinking. About what you said today." He shifted his weight, ill at ease.

"We can just forget it, Luke," she said, tiredly.

He nodded, and cleared his throat. "Well, I was just wondering…What did you have in mind?"

Irritation flooded her. "I assumed we'd just go at it right here in the foyer," she snapped. He sighed and looked pained, and she relented, rolling her eyes.

"A date, Luke. I thought we'd go on a date."

Surprisingly, that made him look even more pained. "A date? I really hate going on dates," he muttered.

"Well, they're not my favorite thing either, but unfortunately, that's the route society expects us to go to find our soul mates," she informed him. "So are you in?" she challenged him.

He gave it some thought as he removed his cap, rubbed his head, and replaced the cap. "Sure," he said, sounding more decisive. "Let's try it."

She felt a smile break out over her face, in spite of his lack of enthusiasm. "When?" she asked.

It looked like he had to catch his breath at the smile. "How about Sunday?" he proposed.

"Sunday's good," she agreed.

"OK." He was suddenly very nervous. "I'll, uh…We'll talk more about the details. I mean, you'll be in the diner tomorrow, right?"

"Sure," she said, still grinning like a fool. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He nodded and left the porch, heading back to town.

Lorelai shut the door, her attitude completely changed from when she had first entered the house.

"Rory!" she yelled, running towards her daughter's room. "Rory! What 'til you hear what Mommy's doing Sunday night!"

* * *

><p>The atmosphere in the old green Chevy pickup truck heading towards Middletown that Sunday evening could be summed up in one word: Nervous. Or maybe two words: Not good. Or maybe even a short sentence: What the hell was I thinking?<p>

Lorelai looked even prettier than normal. Under her coat she was wearing a blue and green print dress that hugged her curves perfectly. Her curls bounced on her shoulders and dress-up heels were on her feet. Luke wasn't sure, but he thought she had on more make-up than normal. Knowing that she had dressed up for him was scaring him to death.

For her part, Lorelai was savoring Dressed-Up Luke. She'd always figured that if she ever saw him in something other than flannel and jeans she'd be speechless, and that belief was being proven true tonight. She knew he was still Normal Luke underneath the strange jacket and the dress shirt and tie, but his bare head was short-circuiting something in her brain that would normally be in charge of banter.

Taking a deep breath, Lorelai plunged into small-talk land. She tried topic after topic, only to have Monosyllabic Man grunt a few words and bat the topic down. Anxious to have anything to cut through the tense atmosphere in the truck, she reached for the radio.

He batted her hand away. "Don't do that."

"We can't listen to music?" she asked, trying not to glare at him.

"It's an old truck." He tried to explain. "Old trucks have quirks. The radio's one of them. It gets exactly three stations, and I can guarantee none of them's anything you want to listen to."

"Are you making that up?" she asked suspiciously.

"Maybe," he said, smiling for one of the first times since he'd picked her up.

She smiled too.

Luke signaled and turned into the parking lot of a restaurant. The rowboat beached up against the entry, the lighthouse replica built against the side, and the fake seagulls placed permanently on the roof were a dead giveaway to what sort of restaurant it was, even without the "Clem's Fish Shack" sign painted over the door.

Lorelai's forehead creased. "Um, is this a seafood place?"

"Very good," Luke told her. "Next you'll be able to figure out who's buried in Grant's Tomb."

She shut her mouth and decided not to zing him for that. "It's just I'm not really a seafood lover."

Luke frowned. "Well, this is one of my favorite places. I made reservations."

Lorelai tried to be understanding instead of disappointed. "Oh, sure, then. OK. I'll try it."

They were seated quickly. Lorelai's displeasure increased as she scanned the menu and found that the non-seafood offerings were very slim.

A waiter came to take their orders. Lorelai told Luke to go ahead as she was still trying to find something edible. He ordered a salad and some sort of grilled fish she'd never heard of before. Then it was her turn.

"I'll take the steak," she finally decided.

Luke scowled at her. "You can't order steak in a seafood place, Lorelai."

"I don't _want_ seafood, Luke," she tried to say pleasantly, smiling at the waiter.

"Here." He leaned over and pointed at an item on the menu. "Try this shrimp. It's really good."

"I don't want shrimp." She was still trying to be polite. "I want a piece of dead cow. Medium well, please." She smiled again at the waiter.

"Salad?" the young man asked her, his pen poised over the pad.

Her nose wrinkled and she shook her head, still perusing the menu.

"You should have a salad," Luke told her.

Maybe he didn't mean to sound so self-righteous when he said that. Maybe he didn't mean to be a self-appointed member of the health police. But his tone managed to tip Lorelai right over into what-else-can-I-do-to-bug-Luke mode.

She closed her menu and bestowed one of her dazzling smiles on the young waiter. "What I'd really like," she said, her voice as sultry as possible, "is French fries _and_ a baked potato. Is there any way you can make that happen?"

The waiter visibly gulped. "S-Sure," he stuttered. "I'm s-sure that's possible."

"Thanks," Lorelai smiled, giving him a little wink.

"That's what you're eating? Nice," Luke said sarcastically, picking on her food choice instead of the way it rankled him that she had to flirt with the waiter in front of him. "Your cardiologist will thank you someday, when he's enjoy the ocean breeze in the cabana your angioplasty paid for."

"Then we'll all be happy," Lorelai said, grabbing for her martini and taking a big swig. So far, this night was not going the way she thought it would.

She watched as Luke stared down at the table. He took a deep breath and seemed to give himself a pep talk. When he looked at her again, he appeared more relaxed.

"So," he asked, his voice carefully modulated to a pleasant tone, "what's Rory up to tonight?"

She smiled genuinely at him, pleased that he was making the effort to get them back on the nice-date track. "Well, it's Sunday night, so she and Dean will get together to do some _studying_." She used air-quotes around the 'studying.'

He had been reaching to take a drink of his beer, but he stopped abruptly. "They're together?"

"Yeah," she shrugged.

"At his house?" he asked.

"No, at ours." She frowned at him. "What's wrong?"

Luke was getting increasingly agitated. "You left them alone? At your house? Are you crazy?"

"No," she said shortly, giving him a sharp look that she hoped conveyed that he needed to keep his mouth shut on this topic.

Apparently those sorts of looks didn't work on him.

"Lorelai, you better than anyone else should know what 16-year-old boys are after. And you _still_ left her alone with him? What's wrong with you?"

"First off," she said, her tone so icy that it was a wonder the water in their glasses didn't freeze, "Rory is not me. She's a brilliant, capable girl who knows exactly what she wants out of life, and no boyfriend is going to get in the way of that, no matter how gorgeously floppy his hair is. Second, I trust her and I trust Dean. Unlike my parents, I've talked about this stuff with her for years. And third, if they're going to do it, my being there is going to make very little difference. Rory was conceived on the balcony outside my bedroom in-between the soup and salad courses while both sets of parents were in the dining room. Satisfied? Or do you want more details?" She taunted him.

Luke pressed his lips together and held up his hand, indicating he'd heard enough.

Both of them sought refuge in their drinks until Luke's salad arrived.

Lorelai started to decimate the bread basket, slathering a roll with butter.

"You're going to spoil your dinner," Luke muttered to her, spearing a radish with savage intensity.

"No, I'm not," Lorelai said with a sickening sweet voice, adding an extra swirl of butter.

"Suit yourself," he grunted.

Their entrees arrived and it soon became clear, as Lorelai poked forlornly at her steak, that it didn't meet her expectations.

"No good?" he asked her, sounding superior as he picked up another bite of his fish.

"It's just…" she looked around, in vain, for their waiter. "It's a little more rare than I like. I prefer my dead cow to be really dead."

He looked at her aghast, as she motioned the waiter over. "You're not going to send it back," he hissed at her.

"Sure I am," she insisted. "I can't eat it like this. And I'm the customer. They want me to be happy."

"Lorelai," he said, warningly, but by then the waiter was there.

"Is there a problem?" the young man asked, scanning their table.

"Hey, Jeff," Lorelai said amiably, of course knowing the waiter's name. "Not really a problem. Not even a problem-let. Would it be possible for you to stick this back under the broiler for another minute or two?"

"No problem at all," Jeff decreed, and instantly snatched Lorelai's plate, bearing it back off to the kitchen.

"See?" Lorelai said smugly to Luke.

He shook his head at her, grinding his teeth in irritation. "You just always have to have your own way, don't you?"

She arched her eyebrows at him. "And there's something wrong with that?"

He lowered his eyes back to his plate and started sawing through his broccoli. "No, of course not," he said snidely. He gave a disgusted, short laugh. "I really don't know why I thought tonight would change that fact at all."

She raised her head regally, tossing back her hair, and defiantly reached for another roll.

* * *

><p>Luke pulled his truck behind her car. They sat for a minute in the same utter silence that had pricked at them all the way home from the restaurant. Finally Luke gave a sigh and turned off the engine, reaching to open his door.<p>

"Don't bother." Lorelai grabbed his arm, stopping him from exiting the truck. "It's OK, Luke. I think we've put enough into this charade. You don't need to walk me to my door."

He nodded, slumping back against the seat. "It was pretty bad, wasn't it?"

"Well, being on the Titanic for a first date might have been a little worse, but yeah, it was bad." She tried to be upbeat. "But at least now we know, right? We tried. No more of those 'what if' questions swimming around our heads."

"Yeah." He leaned his head back against the seat.

She maneuvered so that she could look more into his face. "And this won't change anything with us, right? We'll still be friends. I'll be in the diner tomorrow just like normal, and you can tell me all about the state of my arteries, and life will go on, right?"

"Right," he agreed, trying to smile, even though his eyes looked sad.

"OK, then," she said, trying to sound upbeat. She offered him her hand.

He took it and gave it a squeeze, holding it in his for a few moments longer.

She stared at their hands. She used all of her senses and beamed them at their linked hands, trying hard to feel some sort of tingle. But…nothing. There was nothing there.

"Thanks for dinner, Luke," she said smoothly, pulling back her hand and reaching for the door. "Thanks for being willing to try this with me."

"No problem," he said hollowly, giving her a wave as she started for her door.

Lorelai stepped inside and headed immediately for the couch. She let her body fall back onto it, her head landing with a desolate thud against the back. She let her eyes close and she sat there, unmoving, until Rory came to investigate.

"You're back early," Rory observed. She plopped down on the couch next to her mother, carefully holding her dish of ice cream so it didn't make a mess. "Did Luke need to get back to the diner?"

"No," she said, swallowing hard.

Rory frowned, and pushed at Lorelai's foot with one of hers. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Lorelai continued to sit there with her eyes closed. "One time," she started, "I let this guy talk me into a date. I think you were about in third grade. His dad was doing some work at the Inn, and he was helping. He drove a vintage red '65 Mustang convertible. I'd always wanted to ride in a red Mustang convertible." She finally opened her eyes and looked at Rory, but otherwise she stayed motionless. "It turned out his idea of a hot date was taking me to the mini-mart for a Coney dog and then finding someplace to go parking. Luckily for me, his Coney dog made him sick and he threw up all over the side of his Mustang. I ended up hitching a ride back to town with Gypsy." She sighed. "And up until tonight, I thought that was the world's worst date."

Rory's eyes were wide. "Luke wanted to go parking? Or Luke got sick?"

"No." Lorelai laughed, just a little, and to her horror, she felt tears trickling out of her eyes.

"Aw, Mom, what's wrong?" Rory sat her ice cream down and leaned forward, putting her hands comfortingly on Lorelai's knees. "What happened?" she asked, concerned.

Again, Lorelai tried to laugh as she scrubbed at her eyes, not caring about the mascara and eyeliner she was dislodging. "I know this is so stupid, Rory, but I just can't help it." For a moment she let her mouth quiver and let some bitter tears flow. Rory sat patiently waiting, gently rubbing her mom's knee.

"You know what it's like when you get one of those really nice boxes of chocolates, like maybe at Valentine's Day?" Lorelai finally felt composed enough to venture.

"Um, Godiva," Rory murmured.

Lorelai nodded. "And as soon as you lift the lid, you see one piece that you know is going to be the best. Maybe it's wrapped up in gold foil, or it's got an extra swirl of chocolate on top, but you know it's the premier piece. And maybe you don't do it intentionally, but you save that piece for last. And it doesn't matter when you get the toffee that sticks your teeth together, or the weird chewy piece that you can't get rid of, because you know you've got that special one waiting for you." Lorelai took a deep breath, and shook her head, still ashamed that she was letting this defeat her. "So finally the day comes, and you bite into that last piece. And it's a lemon crème," she said, darkly.

"Ew," Rory agreed.

"All these years, I really thought Luke was wrapped up in gold foil, just waiting on me," Lorelai admitted, slowly. "I thought when I finally decided to unwrap him, it'd be all unicorns and rainbows, you know? I thought…I thought he was going to be it."

Rory bit her lip, deflecting the temptation to point out the dirty element in what her mom had just said, because it was about Luke, and her mom, and….Ew.

"So Luke's a lemon crème?" she asked instead, trying not to laugh, because she could see that her mom truly was upset.

"You know all that cutesy stuff we say to each other in the diner, like we can't stand each other?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, it turns out that's all true. We really can't stand each other. We have nothing in common. We drive each other crazy. It's not an act."

"But you and Luke really are friends," Rory protested. "You like each other."

"Maybe." Lorelai sighed. "But there's nothing else there. I held his hand tonight, Rory," she admitted. "I wanted to feel something, you know? But there was absolutely nothing there. No sparks, no fireworks, no passion whatsoever. It could have been Taylor."

"Now you're just trying to gross me out," Rory complained.

Lorelai forced herself to stand and forlornly started to shuffle towards the stairs.

"Are you going to be all right?" Rory worriedly asked her.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Lorelai sighed, resigned. "I just need to wallow for awhile."

"Is wallowing a singular activity?" Rory asked, more than willing to help out her mom.

"For tonight, yeah, I think it is," Lorelai said, pulling herself up the stairs. "But thanks, Kid."

Rory watched her mom sadly go upstairs. She picked her ice cream back up, licking off the spoon. She grabbed for the TV remote, preparing to find something to watch. "Hey, Mom, everything's still going to be normal between Luke and us, right? We can still go to the diner and everything, right?"

Lorelai paused at the top of the stairs. "Of course. We didn't have a fight or anything. We just didn't...click." She gave a weak wave towards Rory and continued to her room, anxious to remove all traces of the disastrous date from her body.

TBC...


	2. Any Which Way She Can

**Chapter 2: Any Which Way She Can**

When Lorelai came downstairs the next morning, Rory was standing there with two boxes of Pop Tarts in her hands.

"Cinnamon or cherry?" she asked, shaking the boxes at her mother. "Or both?"

"Thanks, Kid, but I'm going to the diner," Lorelai said bravely.

"You know you really don't have to do that," Rory insisted. "Give yourself a day or two. No one's going to think any less of you if you step back for a little while."

"Rory," Lorelai sighed, pulling her ponytail out from under her jacket, "I need to go. For one thing, I told Luke I'd be there. I told him this wasn't going to change anything. And for another, if I don't go today, I'm afraid it will just get easier and easier not to go at all. And I don't want that."

"OK," Rory grudgingly conceded. She could see her mother's logic. "Just let me put these in the kitchen and I'll go with you for backup."

They spent a few minutes scurrying around for coats, purses, and backpacks, but were soon on their way.

"You look nice," Rory said, as the Jeep was approaching the center of town.

"Thanks," Lorelai mumbled. For some reason she once again felt as though she needed to dress in tip-top serious businesswoman style, so today she had on dark brown trousers and a beautifully soft caramel-colored sweater. She wanted to make sure she didn't look the least bit flirty.

She parked the Jeep and they headed towards the diner. Right before she pulled open the door, an attack of jitters and regret made her pause.

"There's always Weston's," Rory murmured to her.

Lorelai gave herself a shake and smiled at Rory. "It's fine," she stated, and opened the door.

The breakfast rush was still in effect, but they were able to find a table. Lorelai was grateful to feel the firm chair under her, supporting her. She looked around warily, wondering how many of the townspeople knew about last night. Neither she nor Luke had broadcast the fact that they were going out, but she figured that the news had made the rounds anyway.

Luke straightened up from taking an order at the table by the front window and registered their presence. His face went from shock to irritation to panic in less than ten seconds. He nodded at them curtly and headed for the kitchen.

"See? Not so bad," Rory said to her mom, reassuringly.

"Yeah," Lorelai agreed, happy to have the first response over with.

A sudden commotion from back in the kitchen made everyone fall silent, listening as Luke and Caesar yelled at each other. Something crashed to the floor. The next second Caesar popped out of the doorway into the dining room, almost as though he'd been pushed. Breathless, he looked around, trying to get his bearings. Finally, with a shrug, he picked up the order pad and ambled his way over to the girls.

"Good morning, lovely senoritas," he said to them, trying hard to be jovial and charming. "What can I get for you this morning?"

"Um, pancakes, I think," Rory said, shooting her mom a worried glance.

"Yep, pancakes," Lorelai seconded, a little too heartily. "And coffee, of course! Can't forget that!"

"Be right up!" Caesar said, sounding just as cheery as Lorelai, and hurried off.

As soon as he was gone, Lorelai swung her head around to her daughter. "Oh, yeah. Not bad at all," she mocked.

"It'll get better," Rory said encouragingly, trying not to sound as anxious as she felt.

She was wrong.

The next morning Lorelai dressed in an olive green pencil skirt, a crisp white blouse, black jacket and sensible black heels. She straightened her hair and tucked it back behind her ears. As she put on her good wool dress coat, she told herself that this morning at the diner couldn't possibly be as bad as the day before.

She and Rory took their seats as more yelling erupted back in the kitchen. The other diners all looked around apprehensively, shifting in their seats. Lorelai raised her eyebrows at Rory and shook her head. "Here we go again," she sighed.

But today Caesar apparently won the argument. Luke appeared and shuffled over to their table with about as much enthusiasm as someone being sent to the principal's office.

"What do you want to order?" he asked them gruffly, his face full of misery.

"Jack-omelet-side-of-bacon-and-toast," Lorelai responded at once. "Coffee." She tried to summon up a smile.

Rory blinked at her mom's rapid order. "I'd like some scrambled eggs this morning, Luke. With some cheese on them please. And could you toast me a bagel?"

He scribbled it all down on the order pad, nodded, and fled back to the kitchen.

"This isn't getting better," Lorelai said, smiling through clenched teeth.

"No, it's not," Rory agreed, sadly. "Are you sure you didn't offend him, somehow?"

"No!" Lorelai was affronted. "We were equally miserable! We agreed to just let it go! This is not him letting it go," she pointed out, unnecessarily.

"I guess you'll just have to give it more time, then," Rory sighed. "You know you really can't hurry Luke into change. He'll have to do it at his own rate."

They sipped at the coffee that one of the other workers had brought them. Eventually Luke returned with their orders. He sat the plates in front of them with another brief nod and hurried off.

"What is this?" Lorelai asked in alarm, poking at whatever was on her plate.

"Uh, hash, maybe?" Rory suggested, eying it warily. "Is this oatmeal?" she asked, dipping a spoon into the glutinous mass on her own plate.

"Oh, man, this is bad," Lorelai groaned. "Do we send it back?"

Rory looked around at the incomprehensible items on everyone else's plates. More to the point, she noticed the angry glares being aimed at her mother.

"I think we just make the best of it," she advised.

"Best being a relative term, right?" Lorelai questioned doubtfully, trying to hack off a piece of whatever it was on her plate.

"Right." Rory sighed as she stared at the gray lumps on her plate. "Those Pop Tarts are sounding pretty good right about now, aren't they?" she said, her voice full of regret.

"Lots of things sound pretty good right now," Lorelai groused, "including having my head examined for wanting to date Luke in the first place!"

* * *

><p>There was no way Lorelai could face another breakfast at Luke's the next morning. She scrounged up some scones in the kitchen at the Inn and happily drank Sookie's coffee. She felt guilty avoiding the diner, though, so she convinced Sookie to go with her there for lunch.<p>

Having Sookie at her side somehow made the tense atmosphere disappear. Sookie greeted everyone with her usual sunny smile, and instantly started going over the menu, weighing her choices.

Luke appeared, still looking ill at ease, but Sookie was unaware and happily gave him her order, advising him exactly on how she wanted each item cooked.

Lorelai said, "Burger. Fries." She smiled at Luke, trying her best to show him things were still normal. She was trying, damn it! Why couldn't he?

"So, Lorelai," Sookie said, as soon as Luke left their table, "what do you think this means? Last night, while we were at dinner, Jackson asked me how I fried chicken."

"I think it means he wants to know how you fry chicken." Lorelai observed.

"No, no. You're not getting it," Sookie insisted. "He wanted to know how_ I_ fry chicken!"

Lorelai frowned. "Is that in code, or something?"

"Yes! Don't you see? He wants to know how_ I_ fry chicken!"

Lorelai shook her head. "Sorry, Sook, still not getting it."

"Well, I think it means, because fried chicken is sort of a family-type meal, you know, that he's hinting that maybe we should meet each other's family."

That was serious enough to tear Lorelai's focus away from her Luke problem. "I think you might be reading too much into that," she observed.

"No, no, you don't understand!" And Sookie took off, explaining in great detail the emphasis a fried chicken dinner had in American culinary history.

Luke served them their meals, and Lorelai was relieved to see that the food on them looked edible. Maybe yesterday had just been a bad day.

Sookie stopped talking long enough to take a big bite of the grilled chicken sandwich she'd ordered. "Oh, Sweet Jesus!" she said, her eyes huge. She inelegantly dug the offending bite out of her mouth. "What is that?" she asked, horrified, poking at the thing that might have at one time been a piece of chicken that was currently occupying the space between the bun on her plate.

With a sigh, Lorelai lifted up the top of her own bun and despaired at the shriveled hockey puck residing there.

Miss Patty appeared at their table. "Lorelai, you have to do something about this, and soon!"

"About what, Patty?" Lorelai frowned.

"About whatever you did that knocked Luke off his game."

"I didn't do anything!" Lorelai hissed, dismayed.

"Well, then, maybe that's what the problem is," Patty speculated. "Although, Lorelai, dear, I always had complete faith that when the time came, you'd know just what to do with Luke."

"Look, we went out," Lorelai admitted, keeping her voice as low as possible. "But it just didn't work out, Patty. It was a mistake, but it was no big deal."

Patty's eyebrows rose and she poked at the desiccated hamburger disc on Lorelai's plate. "You think this looks like it was no big deal? Please, darling. It's obvious you broke the poor man's heart."

"It wasn't―" Lorelai broke off her sharp retort, and took a moment to count to ten. "It's understandable that both of us are going to feel a little awkward for a few days, but it isn't like either of us is pining for the other, OK? Things will be back to normal soon."

"They'd better be, or the town's going to revolt," Patty said. "There's already a watch on to pass the word when you're in the diner, so everyone knows when to avoid coming in here. It takes 27 minutes after you've left before he can cook anything decent, and frankly, I don't have that much time between classes."

"Someone's watching for when I come to the diner?" Lorelai was stunned. She knew Stars Hollow had quirks by the dozen, but this was a whole new level of weirdness.

"Please Lorelai," Patty begged. "Take care of this. If you don't care about how hungry the rest of us are, then do something to put poor Luke out of his misery." She nodded at Lorelai firmly. "I'm counting on you to do the right thing."

Lorelai watched Patty leave, her mouth gaping open. "Did you hear that?" she asked Sookie, completely appalled and horrified.

"Yep." Sookie was trying to salvage something edible from her plate. "Jackson was telling me this morning that people were avoiding Luke's."

"And you didn't think to tell me that?"

"Um, no, not really," Sookie said, munching on a carrot stick. Suddenly she stopped chewing, her face creasing in confusion. "Wait. You went out with Luke?"

"Oh, for the love of…" Lorelai let her face smack against the table, realizing that her best friend was so involved in her own love life that she apparently hadn't heard anything else for the past week. "Come on," she sighed, getting up and tugging Sookie up with her, "I'll explain it all again on the way back to work."

* * *

><p>The next morning Lorelai arranged to go into work late. She made toaster waffles in her own kitchen, and then she dressed in her oldest pair of jeans, her favorite ones that felt like a second skin. She put on her old B-52's t-shirt. She swiped on just a little mascara and some cherry lip gloss, and tied a scarf around her head to hold back her curls. She pulled on her blue puffy jacket and headed towards the center of town.<p>

She sat in the gazebo for maybe 20 minutes, watching as customers left the diner. Eventually even Caesar left, apparently taking his morning break. That was her cue and she hurried over to the diner, making herself rush up the stairs and pull open the door before she could change her mind and back out.

Once again she went over and stood by the cash register, waiting for Luke in the empty diner. She hoped he'd appear before any other customers came through the door. But then she remembered the neighborhood watch keeping track of her diner time, and figured they were safe.

"Be right there!" Luke called out, having heard the jingle of the bells. He came out of the kitchen quickly, wiping his hands on a towel. He froze for a split second when he saw it was her, but pushed himself to keep walking until he stood before her.

"Hey, Luke," Lorelai said, as cheerfully as possible.

He nodded, looking down at the counter.

"Look," she started. "I'm really sorry that I'm making you uncomfortable. I hate that things are like this between us. This is really not what I wanted at all."

"I know," Luke said quickly. "It's me, and I'm sorry. I just …I feel so bad about that night. I really feel like I let you down."

"No!" Lorelai quickly reassured him. "That night was a disaster, but it was both of us, OK? It was just as much my fault. I don't blame you."

Luke shook his head, looking away. "But I could have been better."

Lorelai blew out a big breath. "So, here's the thing. I've been thinking about this a lot. And we said that we were going to still be friends, right? Well, I'm not sure that we really _are_ friends."

"You don't think we're friends?" Luke said, hotly. It would have sounded like he was angry, except Lorelai saw the hurt in his eyes.

"Well, what do friends normally do? Don't they do things together? Look at our relationship, Luke. It consists of me coming in here and you feeding me. And sometimes, I wheedle you into coming over to my house to fix something. Does that sound like friendship to you?"

He folded his arms tightly across his chest, and the muscle in his jaw got a workout as he tried to control himself. "So you don't want to be friends," he finally said, his voice low and vibrating with restrained anger.

"No, that's not what I said at all!" Lorelai hastened to explain. "I _do_ want to be friends! I just don't think that we are right now!"

He made an effort, loosening his arms and rubbing his hands down along the sides of his jeans. "So what's the solution, then?"

"I think we need to find some things to actually do together. You know, like friends do."

A deep crease furrowed into his forehead. "You want to date again?" he asked in disbelief.

"No! No! God, no," Lorelai said at once, chuckling ruefully. "No, the date word shall never again be uttered between us."

Luke glanced down at the counter, thinking, then looked up at her from under his lashes, just the slightest of mischievous smiles touching his lips. "You're not talking about that foyer thing, are you?"

His illicit suggestion, so un-Luke like, coupled with the sexy look, completely stunned Lorelai for a second as something caught and sizzled deep inside her. Then she hooted with laughter, completely delighted that Luke could keep up with her.

"Well, we can always keep that as a backup plan," she winked at him. "But I really thought that we could just figure out something to do together. You know, hang out."

"Like what?" he asked, somewhat apprehensive at what her suggestion might be.

"I don't know." She thought for a moment. "How about a movie? Do you want to come over and watch a movie with me tonight?"

"Just you?" he asked, his eyebrows rising.

"Probably," she shrugged. "Rory's going to the high school with Lane tonight for her band concert. She'll probably be around later. Is that a problem?" she challenged him.

"Probably not," he said slowly, contemplating. He put his hands on his hips, staring out over the empty diner. "You're not going to make me watch some sappy chick-flick, are you?"

She smirked. "No, I'll find something dripping with testosterone for you. Something that even Tim the Tool Man Taylor would approve of."

He smiled a little at that.

"So do we have a deal?" Lorelai asked.

"Deal," he agreed. "What time?"

"7:30 work for you?"

"Yeah, that'll work," he decided.

"OK," she said, sounding much happier. She turned to leave, but she paused as she opened the door. "Hey, Luke? We're going to fix this. I promise."

He nodded, then cleared his throat. "Thanks, Lorelai."

"See you tonight, pal," she reminded him with a smile, then practically skipped out the door.

* * *

><p>It was closer to 7:40 when Luke knocked on Lorelai's door.<p>

"Sorry," he said, stepping inside. "Kirk," he sighed, knowing that no further explanation was necessary.

"No problem," Lorelai replied, reaching to take his jacket. She pointed at his head. "Do you want to take off your cap? Although, I gotta tell you, it sort of unnerved me the other night to see you without it."

Luke grinned. "I'll leave it on, then."

"Okey-doke." She pulled him into the living room. "Wait till you see what I got for us to watch!"

She grabbed up the video boxes and hid them behind her as she hopped around in excitement. "I went into the video store, determined to find the most manly movie that I could. And I scored, big time!"

Luke folded his arms and looked at her impatiently.

"Go on, Luke, guess! Who makes the most manly movies, huh?"

He sighed.

She stopped hopping. "Guess," she ordered.

He recognized the look on her face, and he knew she wasn't going to be happy until he played along. "I don't know." He rolled his eyes. "Sylvester Stallone."

She frowned. "Really? That's your answer?"

"Lorelai!" he warned her. "Just get on with it!"

"You're no fun," she pouted, but just as quickly her good mood returned. "Clint Eastwood!" she crowed, in triumph.

"Oh." He nodded thoughtfully. Maybe this night wouldn't be so bad, after all. "OK," he added.

She brought out the first video from behind her back with a little flourish. "First, we have one of his newer efforts, which may go down as one of his very best: 'The Unforgiven!'"

Luke nodded again, feeling even better about the evening.

"Then," Lorelai continued, "we have something classic from his early years."

Luke expected to see one of the 'Dirty Harry' movies, or maybe one of his spaghetti westerns.

"Ta-Da!" Lorelai whipped out the next video.

A laugh burst out of Luke. "You're kidding!"

She looked hurt. "Come on Luke, what's better than Clint in a tight white t-shirt, beating guys up, and bonding with an orangutan? And to top it all off, you've got Ruth Gordon with a shotgun! What more could you want?" She shook the 'Every Which Way but Loose' tape at him, still looking peeved.

"You're right. It's a classic. My mistake," he appeased her.

She looked satisfied. "Then, to complete tonight's Eastwood trilogy, we have Clint in a romantic mode." She displayed the last box, 'The Bridges of Madison County.'

"Are you crazy?"

"Seriously, Luke, don't you want to see what convinced him to do this movie?" She grinned at him. "Meryl Streep as a lonely Iowa farm wife? Clint as a moody photographer? Think of the mocking potential for us!"

Her smile was forcing one of his own. "OK," he said grudgingly.

"Which one first?" she asked, holding out all three.

He was finding it hard to look away from her bright eyes. "This one," he said, pointing at the middle box. "It's been a long time since I've seen it."

"Clyde it is," she said, happily. "Here, you get everything set up and get comfy. I've got a special treat to whip up for you, in honor of Clyde."

Luke wanted to protest that she didn't need to do that but she'd already dashed off to the kitchen. He put the tape in the VCR and tried to find a comfortable spot on the incredibly lumpy couch. He listened with increasing worry to all of the noises coming from the kitchen, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to go out there and help her.

Eventually she returned, proudly bearing two tall glasses, one of which she handed to him.

"What is it?" he asked, unable to keep the note of suspicion out of his voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Just try it!"

He sniffed it first. "Bananas?"

"It's a banana smoothie," she confirmed, as he took a tentative sip.

"This is good," he declared, shocked.

"I have a blender, Luke," she groused. "I know stuff."

"Yeah, but you…You and cooking aren't exactly known for your compatibility."

She fixed him with a level look. "You know, don't you, that some of the stuff I say and some of the stuff I do is just for show, right? You may be underestimating my abilities."

He raised one eyebrow. "So you're telling me that you're actually a first-class cook?"

"No, but I might not be as helpless as you think. I mean, someone kept Rory alive for the first eleven years of her life, right?"

He smirked. "I thought that was Mia and Sookie."

She chuckled. "They helped," she conceded. She reached for the remote to start the movie, but felt something in her hoodie pocket.

"Oh, here!" She handed him a small bag of almonds. "Apparently these are considered a healthy snack now."

He sat down his drink to open the bag. "You want some?" he asked.

"Got my own," she grinned. She showed him a much larger bag of Hershey kisses.

"What are you drinking?" he asked, pointing at her glass, suspicious again.

"Chocolate shake," she said, looking at him in triumph. "My house, my rules."

"Of course," he agreed, and settled back to enjoy the show.

Lorelai was pretty sure that Luke was having a good time. He seemed relaxed, he laughed occasionally, and he didn't even yell at her when she sang along with the movie's theme song. He appeared pleased when Rory came home and joined them for the last 20 minutes of the movie. She observed him as much as she could, without making it apparent that that was what she was doing.

When the movie ended, Rory said goodnight and went to her room to do some reading.

Luke stood up, too. "I need to get going," he said. Lorelai thought there might be a slight note of regret in his tone. "Someone's got to open up the diner in the morning, and unfortunately, it's my name on the place, so I guess it's me."

"Oh, OK," Lorelai said, disappointed.

He put on his coat and turned to look at her. "This was…fun."

"That was hard for you to say, wasn't it?"

He smiled, but didn't respond to her teasing. "Do you think that maybe…You know, another night…We could watch one of the others?"

"Sure!" Her pleasure at his words was making her bounce on her toes again. "It's always movie night at the Gilmore Theater! Just let me know what works for you."

He nodded as he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. "Well, thanks, pal," he told her, dryly.

"You're welcome, buddy!" she trilled back at him.

She closed the door happily, relieved that her plan was apparently going to work. Luke might not be "it" for her, but she damned well wasn't going to lose him as a friend.

She headed for the kitchen to clean up the ungodly mess she'd made there, still humming the music from the movie.


	3. Crystal Clear

Lorelai and Luke did work through the rest of the Clint Eastwood movies during the next few weeks. Then they branched out into the collected works of Bill Murray, occasionally adding something from Monty Python. Sometimes Rory joined them, and on those nights Luke knew his insights into whatever film they were watching would never be heard. But that was OK. He secretly loved listening to the outrageous things pouring out of their mouths. Although he'd never let it slip out, he was honored that they allowed him entrance into their world of two.

Soon Lorelai realized how difficult it was for Luke to find the time in the evening to come over to her house, so she resurrected the poker game. She'd appear in the diner about an hour before closing time a few nights a week and commandeer a table close to the cash register. She knew where the cards were kept now and helped herself. Luke would join her as he waited for the last customers to leave. He kept a cracked bowl full of pennies for them to wager with. They were only vaguely aware that they were talking more than playing cards. As far as Lorelai was concerned, the biggest perk about poker nights was the unlimited snacks. And Luke discovered that he no longer had to worry about day-old pastries.

The weeks slipped into spring, and Luke had an epiphany. There was no reason, he realized, that only Lorelai could decree what they were going to do. _He_ could suggest an activity as well. So with a thermos full of coffee and a bag full of diner treats he was able to bribe her into attending a Stars Hollow High baseball game one crisp evening. She kept that pretty pout on her face for the first inning but she soon found that having Luke by her side, explaining the game, made it a lot more fun than she expected. She knew a lot of the players because they were former classmates of Rory's, and soon she was cheering for them as lustily as everything else she did in life. The ham salad sandwiches, onion rings, and brownies tucked away in the bag only added to her enthusiasm.

It wasn't long before Lorelai was often seen slipping upstairs to knock on Luke's door, inviting herself in to watch the game with him on his small TV.

The town grew used to seeing them together. East Side Tillie no longer tripped over the curb in her haste to spread the news that they'd been seen walking shoulder-to-shoulder down Main Street. Babette no longer grabbed the phone when she saw Luke's truck parked out in front of Lorelai's house in the wee hours of the morning. It no longer caused Miss Patty to have a heart attack when she spied Lorelai's bright face ducking out from under the curtain leading to Luke's apartment at odd times of the day.

But it was hard to let the dream die.

"Would you look at that," Miss Patty mused one evening at Black, White and Read, waiting on the feature to start. Her eyes were glued to Luke's blue baseball cap tucked up against Lorelai's dark curls, while the two of them discussed something while sharing a tub of popcorn. "What a waste."

"Ain't it the truth," Babette agreed. "Man, the babies those two would've had!"

"So, do you believe it's true?" Patty asked, cryptically.

"What?" Babette said, pouring another handful of Raisinets into her hand.

"That they're just friends."

"Well, I pretty much watch 'em like a hawk when they're at her place, and I haven't seen any touchin' at all. Plus, Rory's around most of the time," Babette revealed. "Ya know, especially since she and Dean broke up."

Patty sighed dramatically. "How could we have been so wrong?"

"I dunno. I thought sure they was meant for each other." Babette chewed methodically for a moment. "Ya know, the other day I was over at the plant center, and that cute little redhead from Weston's was there, and Chad―ya know the one I mean? The one with the biceps? He followed her all the way out to her car with her bag of weed'n'feed. Do ya think there's somethin' goin' on there?"

Patty's eyebrows quirked as she took in this information. "Really? Sweet little Felicia and that big hunk of man?" She tried to work up some enthusiasm, but ultimately failed. "It's just not the same, I'm afraid."

Babette shoved the rest of the Raisinets into her mouth. "That," she said, muffled, "is a damn shame." She pointed at Luke and Lorelai.

"A damn shame," Patty agreed, sighing once more.

* * *

><p>The phone was ringing on the front desk, and as usual, Michel was nowhere to be found. Lorelai snatched it up on the eighth ring.<p>

"Independence Inn. The lovely Lorelai speaking."

"Seriously? That's how you answer your business phone?" Luke griped.

Lorelai felt the smile instantly spring to her mouth. "Luke, I thought you knew by now that I'm never serious."

"Whatever." He paused for a moment, leaning over to refill a diner's coffee mug before returning to the reason for his call. "Listen, I was wondering if this friendship thing we're doing extends to going shopping."

"Hang on a minute, OK?"

He waited, assuming something else needed her attention at the Inn's front desk. Instead, loud smacking noises came over the phone, forcing him to hold the receiver away from his ear.

"What the hell are you doing?" he groused.

"Sorry. I think there's something wrong with my phone. I could swear I heard you say something about shopping."

"Very funny," he muttered.

"Oh," she gasped. "Is it the new flannel season? Do I get to go with you and pick out this year's hot color combinations?"

"Look, if you don't want to do this, it's fine, but it's my sister's birthday in a few weeks, and―"

"You have a sister?" Lorelai cut him off shrilly.

"Yes," Luke confirmed, "and her birthday is always―"

"Since when have you had a sister?" she demanded.

"Since I was about two," he replied, trying to get back on track. "And this year―"

"How come I didn't know you had a sister?"

Luke sighed. "I don't know. Probably because you weren't around when she left town."

"See, this is the sort of thing you're supposed to fill me in about, bud. I'm supposed to know about your family. What else have you been hiding from me?"

"I haven't been hiding anything from you. It's pretty much common knowledge."

Lorelai felt a small tremor of guilt pass through her. She'd never thought to ask him about his family. In her mind she retraced the path through his small apartment, trying to recall any family photos on display. She came up blank. She knew he idolized his father, but she hadn't heard anything else about his family.

"Where does she live?" she asked.

"New York." Doubt suddenly assailed him. "Hang on."

She heard papers being shuffled.

"Yeah, New York still," he confirmed.

"Well, I can tell you two are really close," she teased.

Luke sighed again. "Not really. And that's why I need help finding something for her birthday. I always screw it up. So I thought, since you're a girl too, maybe you could help me pick out something for her."

"Yes, it sounds like I have lots in common with her," Lorelai said mock-seriously. "Being a girl and all."

Luke's supply of patience was coming to an end. "Look, you usually like going shopping, so I thought you could help me with this, but if you don't want to, that's―"

"Of course I'll go shopping with you. You know I'll go shopping for anything. I went to three pet stores to get cat toys when Rory babysat for Apricot. Of course I'll go. Just tell me a little something about her, so I'll know what stores to target." She paused for just a moment. "Oooh! Target!"

"She's…" Luke tried to come up with the words to describe his free-spirited sister. "She's ditzy. The biggest flake you'll ever meet. She wears those long, crinkly skirts, you know the ones? The ones that if you stretched them out, they'd cover about six people? And she's always wearing something with little bells or beads on it. She loves all that New Age crap. Oh, and she hangs out with people who like to dress up in costumes over the weekend."

"Costumes?" Lorelai was trying to reconcile that this strange person Luke was describing was somehow related to him. "You mean like theater?"

"No," Luke said, sounding disgusted. "I mean grown people who dress up and pretend they live in the Middle Ages or something."

"Oh!" Lorelai laughed. She was starting to get the picture. "OK, I'll figure out where we should shop. When do you want to go?"

"Tomorrow afternoon would work for me. How about you?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Lorelai confirmed. "I'll pick you up. 2:00?"

"Better make it 2:30." He paused for a moment. "Thanks."

"Happy to do it, pal!"

He couldn't help but smile. "See you later, buddy."

* * *

><p>"So, fill me in," Lorelai said the next afternoon, as she started the Jeep on the trek towards Litchfield. "You have a sister."<p>

"Yes, I have a flaky, pain-in-the-ass sister."

"Little sister?"

"She's about two years younger."

Lorelai tried to bite down on her impatience as he offered nothing more. "What's her name?"

"Liz."

"And how many more siblings are you hiding from me?"

"She's it."

Once again Lorelai waited for him to continue, only to be disappointed. "I always thought it'd be nice to have a sister," she said wistfully. "Someone to help me fight against the parents. You know."

He looked out the window.

"You two don't get along?"

"Not really," he admitted. "Not anymore." The last words had just a hint of regret coloring them.

"What was it like when you were little?" Lorelai would have crossed her fingers, hoping he wouldn't get mad that she was pushing him, if she hadn't needed both hands on the wheel.

She glanced over and saw the tiniest smile struggling to his lips. "It was OK when we were little. We were close enough in age that we could play together, and it didn't matter that we were a boy and a girl. We had a treehouse out back, and all sorts of pretend games we'd make up. But I drew the line at playing Barbies or paper dolls with her," he told Lorelai firmly.

"Aw, G.I. Joe never got to spend any time in the Barbie Dream House?"

"Never had a G.I. Joe," Luke said, gruffly. "Keith, one of the boys down the street, did. My mom was anti any war toys."

"But let me guess: You turned every stick into a gun anyway."

"Yeah," he laughed.

"So, what happened to split you apart from your sister?"

Luke turned his head, gazing out of the window again. He cleared his throat. "I don't know if you know this, Lorelai, but my mom died when I was pretty young."

She pressed shut her eyes for a split second, cursing herself for bringing up something painful. "How young?" she asked, gently.

He continued to stare at the passing scenery. "I was going on 11. Liz was 8."

She shook her head, tears springing up automatically as she imagined Rory being left without her at that age. "I'm really sorry, Luke. I didn't know that. I can't imagine how hard that was on all of you."

"Yeah." He let out a breath as he finally turned to face forward in his seat. "My dad…My dad really loved my mom. She was everything to him. It was like something out of a movie, you know? After she was gone…He wasn't the same for a long time." His voice was gruff, but he didn't seem to be resenting telling her about it.

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

Luke moved his hands through the air, trying to grasp the words he needed to explain it. "He was there. He took care of us. But he was just so sad. It was like physically he hadn't left us, but emotionally he checked out. I think…I think it was actually easier on me." His voice lowered; slowed. "I had chores. I hung out at the store. I played on some teams. It was like I had more of a routine to follow, you know? But Liz just…" He let the words trail off as he shook his head.

"No one to help with her, huh?" Lorelai murmured, sympathetically.

"No." His mouth set in a grim line. "There were all of these neighbor women, coming over all the time, right after. Casseroles and stuff, you know? All of 'em sayin' 'Let me know if I can help.'" His voice had taken on a sarcastic alto pitch. "If just some of 'em had taken some time to maybe play with Liz a little bit, or taken her shopping, or anything like that…maybe it would've helped."

After a short pause he continued, without any prompting. "It was like all three of us were living in the house, but we weren't really living there. We all kinda avoided actually looking at each other. It was like it was easier that way. Finally my dad snapped out of it, and he took charge again. But by then Liz had figured out how to play the poor motherless girl role to the hilt. She got away with a lot of crap with everybody. She even played my dad with it. She was always just barely passing her classes. She was always being threatened with detention. The kids she hung out with were losers. By the time my dad caught on and tried to put a stop to it, she'd already figured out all the angles."

"Whoa." Lorelai sounded grim. "Sounds like we would have had something to talk about."

"More than you know," Luke muttered. "Anyway, I graduated high school and went off to UConn for a year. Track scholarship," he grudgingly admitted.

"Luke!" She was shocked. "That's great."

"I hated every minute of it," he said. "I was fed up with school. I didn't want to be in any more classes. Living in a dorm, with hundreds of people I didn't know, no private space―I really hated it."

Lorelai nodded, glancing over at him. That, she could imagine.

"That summer, when I came home, I could tell that there was something…off…with my dad. He kept saying he was fine. One day our doctor came into the store, looking for parts to fix a drip in his kitchen sink. He took one look at Dad and insisted that he come in for a check-up." Luke paused, the memory of that summer still making his palms sweat. "It turned out he had a bad heart. By the time we found out, there'd been a lot of damage done to his whole body. There wasn't…There wasn't a lot they could do, long-term."

"Oh, Luke." She squeezed her eyes shut again, briefly, in sympathy. "I'm so sorry."

"So I dropped out of school, to stay home and help run the store. It was no sacrifice on my part, although my dad always felt bad about it. And it cost me Rachel," he added, with a dark chuckle.

"Rachel?" Something flared up in Lorelai's chest.

"Girlfriend," he sighed. "We were pretty serious. At least, I thought so. And apparently we were destined to be together," he said, mockingly, "to hear the way the experts in town carried on about us."

"Oh," Lorelai said, trying to smile, "_those_ experts."

Luke smiled too, although he looked tense. "Rachel was―and still is―very ambitious. And adventurous. She couldn't understand how I could be content to stay in Stars Hollow all my life, doing the same thing over and over. She felt bad about my dad, but that didn't stop her from dumping me."

"Sweet girl," Lorelai muttered.

"Actually," and here Luke paused, drawing in a breath, "she is. She's loving, and kind, and funny. You'd probably get along with her really well, now that I think about it. She's an amazing photographer. She goes all over the world, shooting these incredible pictures."

"Good for her," Lorelai said sarcastically, just under her breath. Louder, she asked, "So have you seen her at all since then?"

"Oh, yeah, she blows through here every few years. Every time she tries to convince me that this time we're going to make it work; that this time she's here to stay. And I buy it, every time." He turned and looked at Lorelai, shaking his head. "And then she dumps me again."

Her hands tightened around the steering wheel almost painfully as she processed what he was telling her. Missing pieces of the Luke puzzle were falling into place, and frankly, she didn't like the picture that was being assembled.

"Is she pretty?" she asked, her tone nearly aggressive.

"Yep," he confirmed, instantly.

Her hands gripped the wheel even tighter, her knuckles turning white. _Idiot_, she chastised herself. _You know you don't ask those questions that have the possibility of giving you the wrong answers!_

"So, once you were home again," she ventured, trying to lure him away from the old-flame talk, "were you and Liz still on the outs?"

"That was Liz's senior year, and she seemed to have it together," Luke began. "I still didn't much care for her friends, but they seemed to all look out for each other, and at least she was doing better in school. I thought I could let her slide while I looked out for my dad and took care of the store." He paused, painfully. "I was mistaken."

"What happened?" she asked, hesitantly. She hated to push him, but she really wanted to know.

"All that spring, Liz and her friends were going all over, visiting colleges. It made Dad so proud, that she was finally looking towards the future, making plans. Nearly every weekend she had a trip planned to go look at another campus. All of these brochures were lying all over our house. Our dining room table looked like Rory's room. The mailbox was stuffed full with them. Dad was talking to a loan officer at the bank, trying to make sure there'd be a way to pay for it."

Lorelai gave him a sympathetic look, knowing instinctively that this story wasn't going to turn out well, but encouraging him to continue.

"It turned out that she hadn't set foot on a college campus. She'd met a guy at a concert in New York one weekend. She'd been with him nearly every week since. She and her friends had this elaborate scheme in place, so she always had an alibi about where she really was. She'd sent away for all of the college brochures, and had pumped people who'd really been there for information. By the time she graduated," Luke paused, just enough to give his head a rueful shake, "she was already three months pregnant."

"Oh," Lorelai breathed out. Yeah, she knew this story.

"My dad was just…" Luke let the thought trail off, as he swallowed painfully. "You can't imagine the disappointment."

"Yeah, I can, actually," Lorelai said, a tad bitterly.

Luke's eyes shot to her. "Oh, hey, Lorelai…Sorry, I didn't mean―"

"No, it's OK," she shrugged. "Go on," she insisted.

He sighed. "We tried everything to convince her to stay home; to let us help. But she'd already turned 18, and she was determined. She packed her bags and left. She went to be with the _wonderful_ Jimmy Mariano." His tone was resentful.

"Did they get married?"

"Yeah, they did." He rubbed his hands together. "We didn't go. We didn't want to encourage her. Now I see…that was probably a mistake."

"Yeah," Lorelai agreed, softly.

"We didn't hear from her again until the night she was in labor. She called, all panicked. We closed down the store and grabbed some stuff and took off to be there with her. We got to see Jess―that's her son―as soon as he was born." He again gave her a sad smile. "I'll never forget the look on my dad's face, holding his grandson."

She smiled back, gently, not venturing a comment.

"We tried to help them get settled. We went out and got all this baby stuff. Dad bought everything the salesclerk pointed out." He chuckled, remembering that shopping trip. "We tried to take turns holding this baby, with all of this dark hair, and already so angry at the world!" He shook his head, remembering.

"And then," he sighed, "Jimmy went out to buy diapers and never came back."

Lorelai's mouth dropped open. "Seriously? I mean, I've heard jokes like that, but seriously? That's what he did?"

"That's exactly what he did." Luke's jaw gave away how dead serious he was. "We finally bundled them both up, and all the stuff, and brought 'em back home with us."

"Wow." Lorelai was trying to picture Luke with a baby. She could _almost_ visualize it. "How'd that go?"

"About the way you'd think. She resented everything we tried to do. We didn't approve of her mothering style, and she didn't appreciate our input. Everything was tense and unbearable. Jess cried all the time."

"Yeah, babies can sense those things," Lorelai pointed out.

"So, one day we came home and she'd packed up everything and disappeared. Apparently she'd convinced a friend with a van to come by and help her get out. She left a note, saying she'd call us and let us know where she was." His mouth set in a grim line, and his knees nervously jiggled as he tried to force the next words out. "By the time she finally called, Dad had been dead for three months."

"Oh, Luke!" The words had escaped her, bathed in sorrow. She couldn't stand to think of him facing all that pain, alone. She blinked hard, knowing that neither of them would appreciate tears.

He shrugged, trying to neutralize her sympathy. "It hit her hard, of course. She'd never meant to hurt him like she did. She was just a kid. She never expected things to turn out the way they did. It took me a long time to realize that, though. I was angry at her for a long time."

"Of course," Lorelai said, loyally.

"But she kept trying to reach out to me, and eventually I stopped being such a jerk to her and tried to meet her halfway. Except for our Uncle Louie in Florida, we're all the family we've got. We're still not really close, but we try. That's why I want to do good with this birthday present this year. I want her to know I'm trying."

"We'll find something fantastic," Lorelai promised, even though she was angry at this unknown sister for hurting him the way she did. "How old is your nephew?"

"He's Rory's age," Luke said. "He's really smart, too, just like Rory. Always reading. They'd probably get along pretty good if they'd ever meet." He stopped then, and chuckled. "If she could get past that huge chip on his shoulder."

"The world doesn't understand him, huh?" she smiled

"Pretty much," Luke confirmed. "Although I will say, the kid's had an unsettled life. Liz's taste in men never improved much from Jimmy. She's yanked Jess all over the place as it suited her needs. I could never keep track of 'em. She'd have 'em living in some farm commune, and the next thing you know they'd be in an apartment in New York. The only thing I could ever be sure of is that she'd call me when she needed money."

Lorelai's eyes darkened. "Nothing you're telling me here is encouraging me to find her a fabulous present."

Luke turned and looked at her fondly. "Well, just do it for me, then."

Lorelai got so caught up in those clear blue eyes that she forgot everything else for a moment. Just in time she brought her attention back to the street.

"Oh, we're here!" she said, too loudly, making an abrupt turn into the parking lot.

Luke's forehead creased in consternation as he took in the mystical symbols painted all over the front windows of the store, but he tried to reserve judgment.

When they walked up to the entrance he tried not to wince at all of the windchimes tinkling in the breeze. "What the hell is this place?" he finally muttered.

"It's the 'Crystal Cove,'" Lorelai told him, playfully tugging at his arm. "Let's go in and see what we can find."

Once they stepped inside the door, Luke's face cleared in realization. He sniffed the heavy odor of incense. "This place smells just like my sister," he commented. He listened to the sounds of raindrops being amplified through the store's sound system. "This place sounds just like my sister," he added. Finally he looked around at all of the other people in the store. "Everybody in here looks just like my sister!" He looked at Lorelai in amazement. "How did you know?"

She shrugged modestly. "That's my job, Luke. I have to be able to direct my guests to whatever they're looking for while they're staying at the Inn."

He snorted a quick laugh, looking around. "This should be a piece of cake."

"OK." Lorelai smiled at him. "I'm gonna go browse around. You let me know if you need any help." She gave him a jaunty wave and sauntered off to look through the rack of self-help books. She didn't want to look like she was hovering over him.

Fifteen minutes later she checked back with him. "Anything?"

"Yeah, I think I'm going to go with this." He nodded at a tea set. The tea kettle and four matching cups had a certain rustic charm. "It comes with a book about how to read tea leaves, and Liz eats that stuff up. I figure even if it doesn't end up providing her with an additional source of income, maybe it'll at least save her the money she's forking out for someone else to do it every week."

He sounded just so Luke-ish when he said it that Lorelai couldn't stop the delighted laugh that burst out of her. He smiled back at her.

"Here, let me show you something!" She tugged him over to a jewelry display. "I don't care who the woman is, you can never go wrong with something shiny and pretty." She pointed to a rack of heart necklaces that had been carved from different crystals and minerals. "See? Each color is supposed to mean something. This purple one means 'family.' Liz'll love it, Luke."

"Yeah," he agreed, nodding. "That's a good idea."

A salesclerk came up just then to offer assistance. Luke cut his eyes at the girl's crinkled broomstick skirt, tied around her waist with a belt graced with many tiny, tinkly bells.

"I like your skirt," Lorelai told her with fake innocence, and then walked away before she could laugh out loud.

When they were getting settled back into the car, Luke motioned towards Lorelai's bag. "So what did you get?"

"Great stuff!" she enthused. "I got one of the rainstorm CDs because it says they help you to concentrate. I thought maybe that'd help both me and Rory when we study. Then I got Rory a worry stone to keep in her pocket that's supposed to get rid of all of her test anxiety. And then I found a book that explains what everything in your dreams is supposed to mean. The next time I dream I'm in Bono's house, eating a hot fudge sundae under his dining room table, I'll know just what it means!" She nodded at him happily.

He grinned. "That'll come in handy," he agreed. "Just don't let Miss Patty know you've got it," he warned her. "I don't want to hear _anything_ about what her dreams mean!"

"I don't think there's any mystery to that," Lorelai pointed out, turning the key.

"Hey, wait." Luke pulled something out of his shopping bag. "I, uh, I got you something. To thank you for bringing me here."

Lorelai looked over and her eyes were caught by the gleam of one of the crystal hearts she'd pointed out to him. It was one of the clear ones, cut and polished into a prism so that the light turned into rainbows as it passed through.

"You…you didn't need to do that," she said, faintly.

"I know I didn't _have_ to," he said, "but I have it on good authority that all women like something shiny."

"Yeah, that's true." She tried to sound more like herself. She gave him a flirty smile and turned, gathering up her hair so he could put it around her neck.

He leaned towards her and draped the necklace around her. He fastened the catch, not once noting that his fingers were brushing against her tender skin. He certainly didn't pay any attention to the candied apple scent of the shampoo she'd used that morning. This was not going to be remembered as one of those 'moments.'

She looked down at the clear heart dangling from the black cord now fastened securely around her neck. Her fingers closed around it.

"Thanks, Luke. It's really pretty."

Luke nodded, pleased. "I liked it the best. I thought it'd go with everything."

She kept smiling, but the smile was strained, and headed the car out of the parking lot.

Lorelai was almost certain he hadn't really looked at the chart that explained what the color of each heart represented. She told herself that he didn't have any way of knowing that the clear one stood for 'love.'


	4. Chapter 4: The Other Side of the Story

Luke wasn't surprised to pick up the diner's phone a week later and hear Lorelai's voice. They called each other often now, sometimes several times a day, so getting a call from her wasn't unusual. What she was actually calling about, however―that was often a surprise.

"Hey, Luke, what's your truck doing tomorrow?" she asked, as soon as he said hello.

"Well, considering that fact that it's―what's the word? Oh, I know, _mine_―it'll be parked where it usually is, waiting for me to need it."

"You're sounding like an automotive dictator there, Luke. You don't want to be like that, do you? Think of your poor truck, just stuck out there in the street day after day, always hoping that today's the day maybe you take it someplace fun. Like Hartford, say. Don't you want your truck to have fun, Luke? Are you really going to stand in the way of it having a chance to go to Hartford?"

"Do you even know how to drive a stick?" he asked, doubtfully.

"In deference to our friendship, I'm not even going to turn that into something dirty," Lorelai replied, magnanimously. "And you know I could, so easily. So the answer is yes, I can drive a manual transmission." She paused just a beat. "Theoretically."

He looked around and saw that several customers were waiting on their orders. He knew he needed to finish up the call. "OK," he reluctantly agreed. "You can borrow the truck."

"Thanks, Luke. Your truck will be so grateful to have a day away. You won't be sorry. It'll be like a new truck when it gets back."

"That's what I'm worried about," Luke muttered.

"Now," Lorelai blithely plunged on, "I was wondering if I could borrow your legs, and your arms, and your manly strong back tomorrow—and, oh, what the heck—the rest of you, too."

There was a pause. A pause that stretched out so long that Lorelai finally gasped in shock on her end of the conversation. "Oh, my God! _Luke!_ You were thinking something dirty! Weren't you? Admit it!"

There was another short pause before Luke finally muttered, "No," not very convincingly.

"I'm so proud!" Lorelai chortled. "I knew I'd rub off on you sooner or later!"

Luke squeezed his eyes shut. Suddenly the whole conversation seemed to have tottered off down a dirty path. "What do you need my body for?" he asked, wincing as the words came out.

Luckily for him, Lorelai decided to continue the conversation without pointing out the salacious content of his words. "I need to go to Hartford tomorrow."

"Yeah, I figured that part out," he said gruffly. "What for?"

"Mia found this incredible breakfront at an auction and got it for a steal. She wants it to go in the dining room here at the Inn. She thinks it'll great for buffet items. Apparently it's got some damage to the back of it, so she thinks we can run wiring through it and set some warming trays right into it. Anyway, it was supposed to arrive last week, and I have the carpenter scheduled for the day after tomorrow to install it. But it got as far as the freight company in Hartford, and they've got some sort of problem with one of their trucks and they don't know when they can actually deliver it to us. The big problem with _that_ is that the carpenter I hired is really busy, and if he doesn't do the work this week, there's no guarantee when we can get him back. So that's why I thought maybe if we could just go get it ourselves we could keep everything on schedule."

"You know," Luke pointed out, antsy to get back to the kitchen, "if you just would have explained that to me to start with, I would have agreed to go right away."

"Aw, where's the fun in that?" Lorelai groused. "You'll go then?" she asked, hopefully.

"Lorelai," he sighed, impatiently, "of course I'll go. Anytime you really need help, of course I'll help." He couldn't believe he had to spell it out for her. "When do we need to be there?"

"The place closes at 5, so anytime before that is fine. You decide what fits best into your schedule." For all of her implied selfishness, she was always careful to inconvenience him as little as possible.

"I'll look at tomorrow's hours and get back to you, then."

"Thanks, Luke." The happy, warm note in her voice absolutely made his day. "Man, this friendship thing just has all sorts of perks to it, doesn't it?"

He wanted to roll his eyes but found himself smiling instead. "See you later," he said. He turned after hanging up the phone and discovered that Miss Patty and Babette had their eyes glued to him.

"Eat!" he thundered at them, weary that they were still trying to make him and Lorelai into something.

"We would, Dollface, but…" and Babette pointed to their table, noticeably lacking in food.

"Oh," he muttered, feeling foolish, and hurried to the kitchen to get their order.

Once he was out of earshot, Miss Patty leaned towards Babette. "Did you see that smile?" she asked, conspiratorially, to her comrade in arms.

"Yeah, she's still the only one who can get him to smile like that," Babette agreed. She raised her iced tea glass towards Patty. "Here's to hopin'."

Miss Patty chuckled as she clinked her water glass against Babette's. "Here's to hope, indeed!"

* * *

><p>The atmosphere in the truck on the way to Hartford the next day was totally different from that horrendous date night that now seemed so long ago. Lorelai did her usual stream-of-consciousness chatter, and Luke had learned how to jump into the conversation when she paused for breath. The miles clicked away briskly and it really didn't matter that the old truck's radio was tuned to a baseball game.<p>

Lorelai pulled out the directions and navigated the last few miles to the freight depot. Luke stopped in front of the business office and Lorelai jumped out.

"Wait," he said, pulling on the parking brake. "I'll go with you."

"Nah, I'll just be a minute." She smiled at him before rushing off.

He fumed as he watched her attractive backside, clad in tight jeans today, disappear into the front office. He always worried about what guys who didn't know her would try to pull because of how pretty she was and how provocatively she dressed. And how fearless she was. He knew it wasn't his place to worry, but he did it anyway. You worry about your friends, right? And it was worry, after all. Not jealousy. Definitely not jealousy.

Just a few minutes passed before she reappeared, happily bouncing back into the truck. "We need to go around this way, back to the loading dock," she told him, pointing.

He circled around behind the building and backed the truck up to the ramp. They got out and Luke put down the tailgate.

Lorelai pointed to the rope and pads he'd thrown into the back. "Smart," she observed.

"I've done this a time or two," he told her.

She grinned, angling her eyebrow suggestively. "I like a man with experience."

He sighed and shook his head, but before she could take it to a really dirty place, a worker pushed a large cart out through the plastic flaps of the loading area, bearing at least a half-dozen wooden crates on it.

"Wait, wait!" Lorelai rushed up to him at once. "This can't be ours. We've got a piece of furniture, not this."

The worker shrugged, pointing at the numbers on the crates and the one on Lorelai's receipt. "This says it's yours, lady."

She looked from one crate to another, frowning in confusion. "There's got to be a mistake." She looked to Luke for confirmation.

Luke grabbed a crowbar from the back of the truck and approached one of the boxes. "OK?" he asked, both of the freight employee and Lorelai.

Lorelai nodded approval and the worker said, "It's your stuff. Knock yourself out."

Luke pried the top off of one crate and he and Lorelai anxiously peered inside. She cleared off the packing material and pulled out a carved piece of dark wood that might have been the front of a drawer.

They stared at it a moment, and then at all of the other crates. Lorelai started to giggle.

"No wonder Mia got such a good deal on it!"

"I have a feeling your carpenter's going to need more than one day on this job," Luke commented.

"It's like IKEA, the old-fashioned way!" She couldn't stop giggling. "Oh, Mia, what were you thinking!"

In short order the crates were loaded, the tailgate closed, and they were on their way again.

Lorelai was unusually quiet as she tried to salvage a plan to make this unexpected development work.

Luke reached the highway that would have taken them back to Stars Hollow, but an idea made him pause. "Hey," he said, nudging Lorelai, "show me where you lived."

"What?" Her mind was still working on how many days it was going to take to put together this piece of furniture, times the carpenter's going rate, plus the days of disarray in the dining room. "Where?" she asked, distracted.

"I want to see your house," Luke clarified. "Show me where you lived when you were growing up."

She started shaking her head. "That's probably not a good idea. It's bad enough I have to see it every Friday night for the rest of my life."

"Come on," he cajoled, giving her his one-sided smile, his eyes twinkling. He'd once told her she wasn't the only one who knew how to flirt.

She bit her lip, staring at him. "Why?"

"Why not?" he challenged. "You wanted to know all about my life before you knew me. I can't know about yours?"

He couldn't help but notice that all of the customary sparkle had drained right out of her. He was ready to tell her to forget it when she sighed and jerked her head to the right. "Turn here," she told him. "Turn left at the second light."

As he drove he kept waiting for her to tell him something about the streets they were traveling on or the buildings they were passing. Lorelai usually had a story about everything, and he'd expected to hear all sorts of hair-raising tales from her growing-up years here in Hartford. But she was silent, merely muttering directions to him from time to time. Finally she tapped her finger against her side of the door.

"Pull over here," she instructed.

He put the truck in park and craned his neck, looking out through the windshield. He studied the gray wall and the gate blocking the drive that curved up to an imposing gray mansion. "What's this?" he asked, curious.

"This is it," she replied dully. "This is my parents' house."

He felt his mouth drop open in a decidedly uncool fashion. "You're kidding? This is your house?"

"It was," she said, shortly.

"Wow." He marveled at the size of it. "It looks like the sort of place that'd have maids and butlers."

"Maids, anyway," Lorelai agreed, stiffly. "Notice the plural. My mother goes through help faster than Patty goes through husbands."

"Geez, Lorelai," he muttered, still staring at the house.

"Can we go now?" she asked, clearly uncomfortable.

He shook his head at her, a little irritated. "What's so bad about me wanting to see where you grew up?"

She snorted in disgust. "I only lived here for awhile, Luke! I _grew up_ in Stars Hollow! You know that!"

He studied her for some long moments, deliberately calm, while she battled with her inner demons.

"Come on, Lorelai," he finally said. "You really want me to believe that it was that bad living here? It was so awful that you had to take that little baby and run away? I'm not buying it!"

She curled her fingernails into her palms, trying to stop herself from yelling at him. "I think you're confusing my family with yours. It wasn't the same."

"It was that bad here?" he asked, skeptically. "You had help, money, every advantage? Your only choice was to run away from all of this?"

"Did you play baseball?" she asked, out of the blue.

"You know I did," he said, shrugging. "You've made fun of my trophies."

"I don't mean high school. I mean when you were little. Like grade-school age."

"Sure. You mean like Little League? Or games in friend's backyards? I think the church even organized some teams one summer."

She nodded. "And why did you play?"

"Why?" He laughed at her. "I was a kid. It was fun."

"Fun is irrelevant, Luke," she told him, her voice hard. "What were you going to gain by playing on these teams? Who were the other boys on the teams? Did some of them have dads that could help your dad in business? Come on, that's the only consideration. _Fun_," she scoffed, sarcastically.

"I was eight!" he protested.

"Doesn't matter. If there's nothing to gain socially from playing, you don't play."

"Who thinks like that?"

"They do!" She jerked her arm at the big gray gate. "Everyone up and down this street thinks that way! Everyone at _the club_ thinks that way," she said, her voice taking on a haughty tone.

He looked at her, the disbelief still written on his face. "You're trying to tell me you never got to do what you wanted to do?"

She sighed. "Luke, I never had a playdate that wasn't arranged for some greater purpose. Everything was done with an eye to the future. Their future; not mine, necessarily. Will this help her get into the right preschool? Will that lead to the right elementary academy? Will she have the contacts necessary to be accepted into the right high school? College? And finally, marriage. The right marriage, to an old and high-placed family, preferably with old money, too. That's all that matters." She paused and rubbed at her forehead. "You know, my parents even walked in on me and Christopher doing 'way more than we should have been doing one time, and after they got over the shock of it they were practically gloating because Christopher was a catch. His dad could help my dad. It was acceptable, right up until he got me pregnant," she added sourly.

The disbelieving look on Luke's face was now mixed with disgust.

She sighed, preparing to continue. "I loved horseback riding lessons. I was really good at it, too. But after a year my parents made me stop because it wasn't going to get me any further. They wanted me to know how to ride just in case I ever got invited to someone's fancy weekend estate and needed to be able to do it. They didn't care that I loved it, or that it was fun to me. They made me stop, even though my instructor came to see them and begged them to let me continue. There was plenty of money for lessons - that wasn't the problem. It just wasn't useful. And if I stopped then and started taking tennis lessons, I could partner up with a girl whose mom could help my mom in the DAR hierarchy. It didn't matter what I wanted to do. You know what a lousy athlete I am. You can imagine how much I sucked at tennis. And we won't even go into the five years of ballet lessons, where they tried in vain to teach me to be graceful. It was part of the master plan, so I had to do it."

She looked over at Luke, hoping that he understood how she'd always felt like an outsider in this house.

Instead he gave her his smirk. "Poor little rich girl, huh?"

She jutted her chin out at his coldness before tucking it back against her chest. She folded her arms over herself and turned as much as she could towards the door.

"You can't understand," she muttered. "Can we…Please, can we just go?"

"Sure," he agreed curtly, getting the truck moving. He tried to appear unruffled, but something was poking at him, worrying him. This wasn't the way he'd wanted this afternoon to end.

Just before he was ready to turn onto the highway home, he looked over at Lorelai again. Now that he knew how to read her so much better, he realized that her shoulders were hunched over in sadness, not anger. Her lips were turned down in misery. Talking about what had been her life here in Hartford had torn away the shiny façade she always kept in place. He felt responsible for her melancholy. He'd hurt her feelings, and he was ashamed.

Abruptly he turned into a McDonalds and headed for the drive-thru. "A large chocolate shake," he said into the speaker. "Anything else?" he questioned her.

Her eyes jumped over to his. "Fries," she added, the placid tone of her voice making him hopeful that she'd talk to him more.

"Large fries," he ordered.

He handed her the shake and the sack with the fries before pulling into a parking space at the front of the building. He watched her take a long pull at the milkshake straw before he said anything.

"OK," he said, settling himself against the door, so that he could see her better. "You're right," he conceded. "I don't understand. You're the one with all the words, so use 'em. Make me understand."

"Luke," she said, hesitantly, her brain floundering at how she could possibly enlighten him. She shoved a handful of fries into her mouth, shaking her head.

He sighed too, glancing out the windshield. "Just tell me why you left with Rory. Start there."

She swallowed and wiped off her mouth and fingers with the flimsy napkin she found in the bag. She looked off into the distance, gathering her thoughts.

"I came home one afternoon from class. My parents had made sure I'd gotten my GED and they were making me take some introductory college classes. You know, because we couldn't deviate away from the grand master plan, even though there was a baby to care for. That's what nannies are for, after all. So I came home, and both Mom and Dad were home, which was unusual. They were entertaining, which wasn't unusual."

Lorelai paused, squeezing a French fry between her fingers, scowling as she remembered that particular afternoon. "I found out that the people scarfing down the salmon puffs were the board members of a premier preschool that they wanted Rory to attend. And it just hit me, you know? It was starting all over again. I wasn't going to have any say in raising my daughter. They were beginning to pull the strings again. Rory wasn't going to get to play with the little girl in pigtails who got her jokes, because she was just there on a scholarship. She wasn't going to get to take riding lessons, or whatever her thing was going to be. They were going to force her into the same mold they'd tried to fit me into, and I just couldn't stand it. I wanted better for her. I wanted _happier_ for her."

She chanced a glance over at Luke, hoping he was more sympathetic now.

"But, Lorelai," he started, trying hard to find a way to voice his opinion without hurting her feelings, "you were just a kid. They could have _helped_ you. They _wanted_ to help you!"

She nodded, accepting that. "But their help came with so many strings, Luke. So many rules. I wanted Rory to have so much more than I did. Not in things, because I knew I couldn't give her many things. But in feelings. I just wanted her to have a chance to be a kid. Just a normal kid."

He rubbed his finger over his upper lip while he contemplated that.

"There was another day, a couple of weeks after the cocktail party for the preschool people," Lorelai continued. "It was such a beautiful late summer day. I came home and all I could think about was grabbing Rory and taking her to the park to enjoy that day. I wanted to see her big eyes taking in everything and hear her little giggle as she crawled through the grass. I ran upstairs and got her. She had on some frou-frou outfit my mother had picked out, so I needed to change her into her little jeans and a t-shirt to go to the park. But I couldn't find them. I couldn't find any of her real clothes. Everything hanging in her closet was full of scratchy ruffles and lace and was just ridiculous. The longer I searched the madder I got, so by the time I found that week's maid I was absolutely furious. The maid cracked instantly and told me that my mother had made her take all of the clothes I'd gotten Rory and stuff them into a box and push them under my bed, so there'd be room for all of the proper clothes she'd gotten her. They wouldn't even let me dress her, Luke. My kid, not even a year old, and she had to dress all the time like she was going to a cocktail party. It was insane!"

He pressed his lips together and gave a curt nod. "But it was just clothes, wasn't it? I mean, was that really such a big deal?"

She dumped the French fries back into the bag and folded the top down forcefully. "What finally made up my mind to leave…" She trailed off, as the memory made her pause. "I was carrying Rory into the dining room for dinner one night, and of course, both of us had to be dressed properly for dinner. I was carrying her, and I could feel myself getting all tensed up, like I was preparing for battle. And I looked over at this perfect, beautiful little angel I was carrying—" She had to pause again, as her throat suddenly closed up on her. She blew out a breath and looked over at Luke, silently begging him to understand what she was going to say. "Rory had pressed her tiny little hands over her ears. She couldn't even talk yet, Luke, but she knew what was going to happen in that dining room. She knew it was going to be loud, and angry, and hurtful. It just killed me. You can't imagine how it made me feel, to know that I was subjecting my daughter to that hateful atmosphere every night. It made me sick. I'd promised myself it was going to be different for her, that I was going to take care of her. But I wasn't. So I had to go. I had to try. I had to be better. For Rory."

Luke turned and looked out his window, his fingers drumming tensely on the steering wheel. She could see the muscle in his jaw flinch.

She leaned over and lightly touched his arm. "I know you think I was wrong, because of what happened with Liz and her baby. But it wasn't the same, Luke. I know you and your dad would have done anything to help her, but it wasn't really help that my parents were offering me. It was complete control over me and over Rory. I had to take the chance, Luke, to make a better life for Rory. I had to."

His jaw was still working, and he couldn't look at her fully yet. "_You_ were just a baby," he said, gruffly.

"Yeah." She gave a short little laugh, and he was relieved to hear it. "Inside I felt all grown up, but when I see pictures now, I realize I was just this little twerp."

His face was somber. "Don't you ever think about what could've happened?"

She drew in a sharp breath. "Oh, yeah. Do you remember being 17? How that felt? Like you were absolutely invincible? I mean, even if you were smart and you knew, intellectually, all of the stuff that _could_ happen, you were just convinced that it'd never, ever happen to you?"

"Yeah," Luke agreed, remembering.

"I think that's the only way I did it. I was convinced that I _could_ do it, so I did it. I didn't believe that I could fail. It's the only explanation. Now there are nights when I wake up in a sweaty panic from some nightmare about all the stuff that could have gone wrong if I hadn't stumbled into Stars Hollow and Mia's protecting arms. I think about all of the awful things that could have happened to Rory, and to me, and I just panic. If Rory'd ever try to do something like that, I'd freak out. But luckily Rory's not me, so I don't think I have to worry about that." She gave him a shaky smile.

"You've given Rory a good life," he commented.

"I hope so. I worry about that, too," she admitted, slowly, her defenses now completely down with him.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, it's just like I said, Rory's not me. I worry that someday she's going to look at everything I took her away from and she's going to blame me. Her life could have been so much easier if I'd kept us in Hartford. She'd have been in Chilton from the start. These kids that are giving her such a hard time now would have been her friends since preschool. She likes some of that stuff, Luke. I see it when we're with my parents. It doesn't turn her stomach like it does me. I worry that she's going to grow up someday and want the country clubs and the golf lessons and the DAR. And she's going to resent me for keeping it all away from her."

Luke was shaking his head vehemently. "Not gonna happen," he said, firmly. "Look at what she's had, Lorelai. She's had you. She's never gonna regret that."

She smiled tremulously at him, gratefully.

He pointed at the crumpled bag of fries. "You don't want them?"

She tightened her mouth into a line of disgust. "They're not yours. Can we just go home now, please? I don't want Hartford fries. I want yours. Please?"

"Sure," he said, secretly pleased. He turned the key to start the truck, but rather than backing out of the parking spot he turned to her. "Look, Lorelai, I know that in the past, all we've ever done is sort of snipe at each other, like we really didn't want to admit that we cared about each other. We never said what we really felt. But I want you to know, now, that I'm really proud of how you've raised Rory. You're a good mom. You've made a good life for both of you." He stopped talking for a moment, convincing himself it was OK to continue. "I'm glad…I'm thankful you're my friend."

Her hand involuntarily clasped itself around the clear crystal heart hanging from her neck. "Thank you, Luke," she said softly, touched beyond measure at his words.

He nodded, his own heart soaring at how the afternoon had redeemed itself. He smiled, completely satisfied, and he started the truck heading towards home.


	5. A Backrest,  Not a Boyfriend

A few days later Lorelai was clattering down the stairs at the Independence Inn when she saw the back of an incredibly handsome guy standing at the check-in counter. The sight of his broad shoulders and narrow hips nearly made her lose her balance. She grabbed at the railing to steady herself. And then a hot blush rose over her neck and face as she finally recognized the backside she was so openly ogling. It was Luke. She hadn't realized it immediately because the warm day had caused him to ditch the flannel for a more practical polo shirt. She frowned, feeling somewhat perturbed, as she realized that the hat was missing, too.

"Hey," she greeted him, rushing over. She beat down the weird fluttery feeling inside of her, as well as the totally inappropriate lust of a few moments before. "What'cha doin' here?"

He turned to her in obvious relief. "I didn't think Michel was ever going to find you."

She shook her head, confused. "Michel didn't find me."

Luke frowned. "But he went to get you at least five minutes ago."

Lorelai's face turned grim. "Oh, Michel," she sighed. "The things you bring down upon yourself." She spoke directly to Luke then. "He knew that I was upstairs, helping to restock the supply cabinet, Luke."

Luke's face darkened as he realized the snooty concierge had played him for a fool.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it," Lorelai said brightly, patting Luke's arm. "I'll make him suffer. It'll be my pleasure," she added, evilly.

"That guy is a…a…" Luke sputtered, trying to find the exact epithet to describe Michel.

"Yes, he certainly is," Lorelai continued to appease him. "And after I convince Sookie to add lots of extra carbs into anything he gets from the kitchen for the next week or so, he'll turn into a chubby one. So see? It's all good."

Luke took a deep breath and apparently decided to let the feud with Michel go. He handed a small white box to Lorelai.

She smiled with extra delight. She recognized a Weston's box when she saw it. "What's this?"

He smiled, too. "It's to thank you for your help with Liz's present. She called me last night, and you were right about everything. She loved the necklace. She was…Well, she was really touched. We talked for a long time. It was…" He ducked his head, hiding his shy smile. "It was really nice to do that again."

Lorelai eagerly untied the dark purple ribbon and opened the box. She gasped with pleasure at the 6-inch square of brownie inside, covered in a vanilla buttercream icing and topped with chocolate shavings. She licked her lips in anticipation.

"If you have any more family members you need to find presents for, you just let me know," she offered, quickly popping one of the chocolate shavings into her mouth. "Yum!"

His eyes twinkled at her reaction, even though he shook his head at her in mock condemnation. "Liz wants me to come to New York soon to visit her and Jess. I was wondering…" His voice slowed down, and he glanced down at his shoes before continuing. "Would you go with me?"

Lorelai gulped the chocolate down her suddenly dry throat. "I think…I think you should go on your own, Luke. At least this time. I'd love to meet Liz, and your nephew, but I think this trip should be a strictly family visit." She studied the disappointment on his face. "How about this, though?" she added, to placate him. "Why don't you invite her to visit Stars Hollow, too, and when they come, they can stay here at the Inn. I'll make sure there's a room for them, whenever they want it."

His head shot up in surprise, and he looked straight at her. "That's really generous, Lorelai. Thanks," he said, his voice gruff.

It took a few more moments before she became aware that she was staring right into his incredible blue eyes. "You're welcome," she said, ashamed at how breathless she sounded.

To get them past the suddenly awkward spot they found themselves in, Luke cleared his throat and continued onto the other reason for his visit. "Let me take you out to eat tomorrow night," he urged her. "I owe you big time for this thing with Liz. There's a restaurant I've heard about in Bridgeport I've been wanting to try, and it'd be a lot more fun if you'd go with me. What d'ya say?"

Once again she found herself staring at him, smiling almost dreamily, as he gave her that lopsided grin that she'd discovered she could barely resist. She gave herself a mental shake and came back to the present.

"What sort of restaurant?" she asked, her voice tinged with suspicion in spite of her belief that she'd probably go anywhere with him that he wanted he to.

"It's brand new, some sort of stir-fry place. It sounds nice."

"Stir-fry?" Her nose wrinkled up. "Isn't that lots of vegetables and stuff?"

"Look," he sighed. "I cook for you every day, right?"

"Right," she agreed, still suspicious.

"And you like everything I make for you, right?"

"Yeah," she agreed, but still looked completely unconvinced.

"So I promise you that I'll find you something there that you'll love. And if you don't, I'll take you to an ice cream place afterwards and you can order the biggest sundae they've got. Deal?" he asked.

She thought about it before giving her head a brisk nod. "Deal," she agreed.

"I know today's Friday, so you won't be in for dinner," he remarked, as he prepared to walk out, "but when you come in for breakfast we'll talk about when to leave for Bridgeport."

"OK." Her head bobbed in agreement. "See you then. And thanks for the brownie!"

Almost on its own, her head tilted in appreciation as she watched him walk away. Gradually she became aware that someone was standing next to her, in the same exact pose.

"Was that Luke?" Sookie asked, studying the jeans walking out the door.

"Yes," Lorelai said, snapping her head upright abruptly.

"The man knows how to fill out a pair of jeans," Sookie commented approvingly. Then she spotted the Weston's box. "Lorelai!" she said, irritated. "What's that doing here?"

Lorelai snatched up the box and put it behind her. "Luke brought it for me, to thank me for helping pick out Liz's birthday present."

"He knows the rules," Sookie said firmly. "He knows better than to bring contraband baking goods into my domain!" She tried to grab at the box.

"It's just an innocent brownie," Lorelai begged, backing up further. "And you like, Fran, remember?"

Sookie sighed in exasperation, her hands on her hips. "I'll overlook it this time, since he was doing something nice, but he'd better not make a habit of it." She leaned her elbows against the counter, relaxing. "So the gift-buying trip was a success, huh?"

"Yeah, apparently she called and they had a really nice long talk," Lorelai commented, pulling up the next day's reservations on the computer screen. "He's going to take me to dinner tomorrow, so I'll probably hear more about it then."

Sookie's gaze swept over Lorelai and came to rest on her friend's face. "You guys really send a lot of time together now," she commented mildly.

"Well, you're always busy with Jackson, and Rory's always studying, so be thankful I've found another friend to take up the slack." Lorelai kept her eyes on the computer screen.

"Uh huh." Sookie folded her hands in front of her, as she stared across the lobby. "Nice necklace," she pointed out, pretending innocence.

Lorelai's hand shot up to cover the heart hanging around her neck. "I don't wear it that often," she insisted.

Sookie laughed. "Lorelai, that's the third time this week!"

Lorelai wanted very badly to dispute her, but she couldn't. "Well, Luke's right. It goes with everything," she grumbled.

"Yes, it does," Sookie agreed sweetly, the huge smile on her face making her dimples show.

"Don't start," Lorelai warned her, but she was having a hard time keeping a smile off of her own face. "We're friends, Sookie. Just friends. You need to accept that, along with everyone else. We've worked hard to get to this point."

"The brownie stays out of my kitchen," Sookie reminded her, pointing at it threateningly. "But the person who brought it is welcome anytime," she added with a wink. "As long as he wears those jeans."

"I'll let him know you appreciate the eye candy." Lorelai's focus was still on the computer. "I know that'll make his day," she said with a grin, imagining Luke's discomfort if she ever would tell him that.

* * *

><p>The sun was just starting to set when Lorelai and Luke entered the restaurant the next evening. Loud music greeted their ears and the place was packed. They were shown to the last small table available.<p>

"See? Lots of people like this place," Luke observed, leaning over the table some so she could hear him over the music. "It'll be good."

Lorelai twisted up her mouth into a semi-pout, letting him know she still didn't totally believe him. She looked around the place. She noticed the striking paper lampshade on the light hanging over their heads. It looked handcrafted, and she pointed it out to Luke. "Pretty," she said, approvingly.

He smiled and nodded, glad she'd found something positive to focus on.

When their waiter came over and discovered it was their first visit, he spent a lot of time explaining the setup of the restaurant. He showed them cards on the table that detailed a lot of possible flavor combinations, and pointed to small wooden sticks lying on their napkins.

"Just be sure to write your names on those, and put them in your bowls, so we know who to bring the food to," he told them, and Lorelai instantly grabbed one of the stubby pencils available and wrote on her stick. "Be sure to ask me or any of the other servers if you have any questions at all," he urged them. "Have fun!"

As he walked away, Luke leaned over and took her stick away from her. "You just sit here and enjoy your mojito," he told her, smiling. "I'll make dinner tonight. And you _will_ love it," he pretended to threaten her.

She watched Luke as he went to the center of the large room and joined the other diners in front of the long line of possible dinner ingredients. He took two bowls from the end of the line and seemed to be carefully considering each item in front of him. She studied his profile, smiling fondly at his seriousness as he went about choosing her dinner. Sometimes his extreme Luke-ness just filled her with joy. Shaking her head at her own dorkiness, she sipped at her drink.

Soon he slipped back into the seat across from her. "Now we wait our turn for the chef to grill that up," he told her. He took a gulp from his beer. "How was Hartford last night?" he asked cautiously.

"Oh, Adolph and Eva were in rare form last night," she griped, rolling her eyes.

"Sorry," Luke winced.

"Oh, it's no big deal," Lorelai muttered, waving her hand. "Just the same old stuff. They can't understand why Rory's not signed up to do a hundred things this summer. They had all of these brochures for camps and summer courses to wave in my face. Rory's worked really hard this year," she said hotly, once again feeling her anger from the night before when her parents had insisted Rory not waste her summer. "Summer's our time to hang out together again. She deserves some time off. Right?" she demanded of him.

"Right," he agreed at once, knowing better than to dispute her.

"I mean…I know she would benefit a lot from some of the summer programs." Lorelai looked off to the side, frowning, and suddenly she didn't sound so confident. "And she would enjoy them. I mean, she's Rory, right? Studying is fun for her." Her fingers tapped nervously against her glass. "But it's summer," she added, more decisively. She looked back at Luke. "Her brain needs some downtime. It'll make her sharper in the fall." She looked down at her lap, slightly shaking her head. "And they all cost a small fortune," she muttered. Her eyes shot back up at him and she pointed her finger at him in warning. "And do not offer me money!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," he assured her.

She smiled and suddenly seemed calmer. "It'll be fine. We'll do this summer just like we normally do, and it'll be fine."

Luke grinned and shook his head slightly as he took another swallow of his drink. "I love the way you can have a complete conversation all on your own."

Lorelai shrugged her shoulders modestly. "It's a gift."

They continued chatting until their server appeared beside them with two steaming bowls balanced on his tray.

"Here we go!" He announced grandly, sweeping one of the bowls off of the tray. "Who's…?" His eyes read the cramped writing on the stick and he turned flustered. "Who's 'Here Under Protest?'" he asked, taken aback.

"Ooh! That's me," Lorelai exclaimed, waving her arm.

He glumly sat the bowl in front of her. "And…Luke?" he confirmed, setting the second bowl down in front of a resigned Luke.

"Thank you!" Lorelai told him, gaily.

He nodded and slunk away.

Lorelai could see green things and a lot of other items she couldn't identify in the bowl in front of her. As she leaned over to scowl at it, the enticing aroma hit her and her mouth started to water. She abandoned the chopsticks she was going to use to poke at it and grabbed her fork instead. Cautiously she brought a bite to her mouth.

"Oh, my god." She chewed a moment in ecstasy. "Luke, this is fantastic!" She quickly speared another bite and got it to her mouth. "I mean, really, really good." She bounced a little in her seat as she chewed. She half-covered her mouth with her hand so she could talk while she chewed and not totally gross him out. "I know there's stuff in here I wouldn't normally have anything to do with, but this is incredible!"

Luke smirked a little bit as he raised his own fork to his mouth. "Does that mean I'm off the hook for the ice cream?"

Lorelai was still busily shoving food into her mouth, but she nodded. "Well, I might still want ice cream," she added, muffled, "but not because the meal was bad."

After some more minutes devoted solely to eating, Lorelai asked, "So what's in here, exactly?"

"One of the choices was beef tenderloin, so I picked that for you," Luke told her. "I added some chopped tomatoes, and some noodles, and I put on some wild mushroom sauce and some sort of house blend that I thought would go with the beef. Then I just added some other things, you know, for flavor." No way was he going to tell her how many vegetables he'd thrown into her bowl.

"Great job," she said, smacking her lips. "Fantastic job. Here, you need to try this."

Over his protests she brought a forkful to his mouth. Rolling his eyes he tried it, and had to admit he'd done a good job.

Now with much more interest she pulled out the card displayed on the table and read over the suggested flavor combinations. She none-too-subtly looked around at the other customers close to them, trying to discern what ingredients were in their bowls.

Their table was small and it didn't take much leaning for her to be practically over his bowl.

"So, what do you have?" she asked, fascinated.

"You wouldn't like it," he warned her.

"Would I really not like it, or are you just being selfish?" she asked, looking at him narrowly.

He had to laugh. "You really wouldn't like it. I've got tilapia, which is really mild white fish, over rice, and since I don't like heavy sauces, mine's flavored with some lemon and ginger. And I have _lots_ of vegetables."

She looked longingly at his bowl. "But it smells really good."

He sighed and looked off to the side, feigning annoyance. Finally he looked back at her. "Lorelai, would you like a bite?"

She grinned triumphantly. "I thought you'd never ask."

He really had no choice but to feed her off of his own fork, since she leaned over even further, with her mouth open.

"So what do you think?" he asked her, grabbing rather desperately for his beer.

She chewed thoughtfully. "It's different, but it's good. I like mine better, though." She swallowed and carefully ran her tongue over her teeth. "What's this green stuff?" she asked, pointing into his bowl.

"Cilantro," he told her. "It's usually used in salsas and Mexican stuff, but I like the flavor on lots of other things."

"Me, too," she decided.

Soon her fork was scraping the bottom of her bowl.

"Do you want me to fix you another one?" Luke asked, watching her licking her fork.

She stopped, her eyes shining like she'd just won the lottery. "Really? We can get more?"

"As much as you want," he told her. "These poor owners don't realize how much money they're going to loose on you."

"I think I want to put it together myself, this time," she stated. "Will you help me?"

"Of course," he smiled.

She grabbed her little name stick and the pencil. She crossed out 'Here Under Protest' and turned it over, quickly writing something else. When finished, she showed it to Luke.

'Very Happy' she'd written, with as many exclamation points as she could fit into the miniscule space.

"Me too," he told her. In fact, he was so happy it almost scared him.

* * *

><p>"Never take me to another all-you-can-eat place again," Lorelai groaned, leaning on Luke's arm as they left the restaurant.<p>

"Too much of a good thing, huh?" he commented.

"_Really_ good," she sighed. "So, theoretically, if I had all of that stuff in my house, I could make something that tasted that good?"

"Theoretically," he agreed.

She thought that over seriously. "Would you consider coming over sometime and showing me how?"

He stopped walking abruptly and stared at her, confirming that she was truly sincere. "I'd love to," he told her, wondering if some part of hell had just frozen over.

She nodded happily.

"So, it's still pretty early," he pointed out. "Do you want to catch a movie? There are theaters just around the corner."

Now it was Lorelai's turn to wonder about hell's temperature. "Sure," she agreed in amazement. "Let's go see what's playing."

They sauntered around the block and stood in front of the marquee at the ticket counter, trying to decide what to see. Well, Lorelai was, anyway. Luke didn't care.

"_Shrek_ just came out," Lorelai mused, "but Rory'll kill me if I see it without her. Do you think she'd know if we saw it tonight? I could pretend I hadn't seen it when I go with her."

Luke scoffed, but didn't comment.

"Yeah, you're right. She'd know," Lorelai mourned. "OK, let's go with _The Mummy Returns_."

"I haven't seen the first one," Luke revealed.

"It's OK," Lorelai reassured him. "I bet you'll be able to pick up the plot without any trouble at all."

Luke had their tickets purchased before Lorelai even thought to offer to pay her own way. Sometimes being with him felt so normal that she totally forgot they weren't a couple.

They stepped into the lobby and stood in line, waiting for their theater to empty. Lorelai pointed to a huge display poster of the big green ogre.

"I really can't wait to see that," she told him. "All of the reviews say it's great. Hey, why don't you come with me and Rory to see it?"

Luke snorted at that idea. "I don't think so."

"Why not? The animation is supposed to be like nothing you've ever seen before. And the story sounds so cute," she gushed. "He's this big, mean ogre, right? That's what he wants everyone to think, anyway. But then he goes to rescue this princess, and she brings out his sweet side, and of course, since it's a fairy tale, I'm sure they live happily ever after." She was suddenly sensible that she'd basically described the two of them, minus the 'happily ever after' part, and she felt momentarily flustered. "So, Mike Meyers! Cameron Diaz! What's not to like, huh?" she hurriedly added.

He pointed over to the _Shrek_ line, where seemingly a thousand small children waited, all whining and clinging to their parents, soft drinks and popcorn spilling from a thousand cups.

"That's what's not to like," he growled, but softly, close to her ear, so as not to offend any of the parents standing there with their perfect, although sticky kids.

She wasn't sure how he'd gotten so close to her, and for a moment all she could do was to stand there perfectly still, waiting until her breath came back.

Finally they were able to enter the theater, and with some minor debate over the best place to sit, they claimed two seats in the center section (Lorelai's insistence) but on the aisle (Luke's preference.)

As they settled down into their seats, Luke became aware of everyone's popcorn containers around them. "Oh, hey, I didn't even think. Do you want something to eat?"

Lorelai laughed and rubbed her stomach. "No, I think I'm good for now. But maybe I'll twist your arm for that ice cream on the way home." She angled herself into her seat and without even realizing what she was doing, she leaned her body over against Luke's. At once she sprang away, sitting upright abruptly.

He laughed and pulled her back against him. "It's OK," he told her. "I may not be your boyfriend, but you can still use me as a backrest."

She tried to make herself relax. "You're very comfy," she observed, trying to sound unperturbed.

He suddenly frowned. "Are you going to be warm enough?" She looked gorgeous tonight, as usual. The warmer weather during the last few days had caused her to wear a sleeveless, sandy-colored tunic tonight, belted tightly around her trim waist, with ruffles spilling from the deep vee down her chest. Her curls rested on her shoulders, but her arms were bare.

In response, she grabbed his arm that had been lightly resting around her shoulder, and drew it up and down her arm. "I'll be fine, as long as you do your part," she instructed him.

"OK," he agreed, grinning.

She let herself relax further into him, trying to be the least bit interested in the ads being shown for nearby businesses on the large screen in front of them. She sensed that she was enjoying his warmth and his reassuring solidness beside her just a little too much.

Luke was struggling with the part of his brain that was trying to lecture him about holding Lorelai the way he was. He won the argument by simply shutting that part of his brain off. She was his friend and she was cold. End of argument. He wasn't going to enjoy her smooth skin under his hand. He wasn't going to let his chin rub against her dark curls nestled just underneath it. He certainly wasn't going to inhale the scent of her shampoo.

He'd gradually learned that she had four different shampoos and that she used them in rotation. Besides the one that smelled like candy apples ― which, by the way, had insured that he never again would be able to attend any of the dozens of festivals hosted by Stars Hollow and stand anywhere near the candied apple booth, ever ― she also used one that smelled like the sweetest cherries imaginable. It made her hair smell even sweeter than her lip gloss on those days. There was another that made him think of Mounds bars, since it made her smell like a combination of toasted cocoanut and chocolate. And the last one, his favorite one, the one she'd used today, made him think of freshly washed cotton sheets blowing in the breeze.

But he wasn't going to think about how she smelled. He was going to be a backrest and a source of warmth. He was going to be a pal. Nothing more.

Lorelai was so comfortable and so contented tucked up against Luke that she could have fallen asleep with very little effort. But something was nagging at her; had been, in fact, since almost the first day they'd started this friendship thing. And tonight, with his hand rubbing her arm and her head fitted perfectly against his shoulder, it seemed like the time to let it out.

"Hey, Luke," she began, softly, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he said, lazily.

She took her time, carefully considering her words. "When I first came to you and tried to talk you into the dating thing," she began, slowly, "I mentioned all of the times I thought we'd been aware that maybe there was something between us. But you said no, you hadn't noticed them." She paused, taking a deep breath, wondering if she was going to regret pushing him too far. "Was that…Is that…Was that the truth?"

She could feel him tense up beside her. She didn't rush him for an answer. She let him take his time.

"No," he finally admitted, gruffly. "There were times, when I wondered."

"Behind the counter that night, with the paint," she whispered, looking straight ahead.

She could feel him nod. He cleared his throat. "At your house," he affirmed. "Upstairs, in your room. Trying to get that damn drawer back in your dresser."

"Oh, yeah." She smiled, remembering. "So," she then sighed, confused, "why did you say you didn't?"

Luke took a long time answering. His hand so very lightly ran up and down her arm, making her shiver. "I thought you were probably just messing with me," he said, baring his soul to her more than he ever thought he would.

Lorelai felt a pang go through her chest at his belief that she'd toy with him like that. She tried to buy herself some time to think by doing what she did best in times of seriousness.

"I guess you don't mean 'messing with you' like that foyer thing, right?" she tried to joke.

"No," he said, the breath from his slight chuckle tickling her ear.

She turned as much as she could to look at him. "Luke, I'd never treat you so lightly. You know that, don't you?"

Again, he stared straight ahead and took his time finding the right answer. "I know that now," he told her. "But then?" He shook his head. "You've always loved to tease me, Lorelai."

"Tease you, sure. Making up cute little nicknames. Pointing out your shortcomings for your own good. But you really thought I could be that cruel?"

"There never seemed to be any limit on what you'd do for a good joke."

"You know, you've always responded to me the same way," she pointed out. "'Don't sit on any cold benches' ring any bells? And there was the time you asked me to marry you, just to shut me up."

His hand stopped rubbing her arm. "Yeah," he admitted.

"So, if you thought I was just messing with your head, what made you agree to the date?"

"I guess I thought…if there was any chance you were serious…I didn't want to miss it."

She sighed. "But it was a disaster."

"Well, I'm not…" He slowly shook his head as he tried to come up with the right words. "I'm not a good match for you."

"Why not?" she demanded, anger flaring at once.

His jaw tensed as he motioned at her with his free hand. "Look at you," he said. "You're beautiful, Lorelai. And you…You _sparkle_, you're so full of life. You're ambitious, and you want so much out of life for you and for Rory. You've got plans, and dreams, and I know you're gonna make 'em happen. But me? I'm just this dull guy runnin' a diner. We couldn't be farther apart."

She twisted in her seat to look at him then, totally shocked. "Luke! That's not true! For one thing, you're not just some guy running a diner! You _own_ your own business! And you're the one that made that happen! You had the vision, and you're the one who made it a success. Stars Hollow would not be the community it is without Luke's Diner. You need to be proud of the place you hold there! And yes, I'd like to own my own inn someday, but right now, that's far into the future, so you are way ahead of me, buddy. And sure, I might be known for my rapier wit, but you're no slouch. You can keep up with me, which is no mean feat. Your humor is just quieter than mine." She drew a breath and leaned a little closer to him. "And as for the prettiness factor, you can more than hold your own. In fact, if that little redhead two rows over doesn't stop looking back here I'm going to go scratch her eyes out!"

Luke's eyes involuntarily searched for the redhead even as he scoffed at what Lorelai had said. "Guys aren't pretty."

"Ha!" she disputed. She pointed at her own eyes. "Lots of mascara, eyeliner, and tons of other products designed to make me look more alluring." She pointed at his own thick, dark lashes. "All natural, pretty boy. Draw your own conclusions."

He shook his head, stifling a grin, and pulled her back in her seat, so that she was facing forward again.

She once again leaned up against him, but the comfort now seemed just beyond her reach. She was silent for awhile, letting the piped-in music wash over her, staring at the still ads for car dealers and movie trivia questions that were beamed at the screen.

"Luke," she began again, carefully, "if you had a choice, between having a torrid, hot love affair that would probably flame out after a few months, or what we have together now…Which would you choose?"

His hand stopped rubbing her arm. She felt him stop breathing. It seemed to take him forever to decide what to say, and each long moment of waiting made her heart beat even faster.

"Well, it's been a long time since I've had anything hot or torrid," he said in that dry, light tone she now recognized as the one he used when he was saying something serious but wanted to pretend he wasn't, "so that might be tempting. But I can't imagine not having you as a friend, Lorelai. I wouldn't want a life that didn't have you in it. So I'd choose this."

"Me, too," she agreed, too quickly, but giving him a sad smile all the same.

The movie theater darkened and the sound system blared as the previews for upcoming movies started.

She leaned against him again, barely feeling his hand on her arm, or his shoulder under her cheek. He'd given her the right answer. He'd said exactly the right thing. So why had her heart dropped in disappointment? And why, oh why, was it taking all of her strength to keep the tears from spilling down her cheeks? As she stared at the screen, blinking hard, she doubted that the answers she was searching for would be found watching Brendan Fraser battle monsters in the sand.


	6. The Substitute

**Author's Note:** I've composed a lot of stories about Luke and Lorelai, but this chapter is still one of my very favorites! Let me know if you like it, too.

* * *

><p>The diner phone rang early the next Wednesday evening. Before Luke could even get the receiver to his ear he heard Lorelai's voice shooting out words in her usual rapid-fire manner.<p>

He may have gotten to know and understand her much better in the last few months, but some of her mannerisms still annoyed the hell out of him. "Lorelai!" he shouted into the phone, hoping to get her attention. She rattled on, oblivious to him, but his shout had inadvertently made sure that everyone else in the diner was now focused on him and the phone.

His irritation disappeared when he detected the note of panic surrounding her voice. A sudden irrational fear skittered through his own chest. He turned away from the diner patrons and tried again, softly this time. "Lorelai?"

She heard him then. "Oh, Luke! Luke, thank God! Now, listen to me. Andrew's going to be there in…" He heard rustling, things being pushed away. "He should be there in about four minutes. He's going to show you how to work his video camera. Then you're going to have about fifteen minutes to go upstairs and throw on your very nicest pretty-boy clothes, and if you leave right away, you should have just enough time to get to Chilton―"

"What in the world are you talking about?" He managed to break in to her monologue.

"Chilton, Luke! Chilton! I need you to go to Chilton!" He could hear the tension and anxiety in her voice and he realized this wasn't one of her bits. Something was truly wrong.

He turned away even more from the prying eyes and spoke quietly into the phone. "What's going on? Is Rory OK?"

He could hear her take a breath. He could picture her squeezing shut her eyes and counting to ten. He counted along with her.

She exhaled. "Rory's fine," she replied, sounding a little calmer. "Tonight's her big speech in front of the Chamber of Commerce. Remember? You heard her practicing all last week."

Of course he remembered. He'd been there while she'd debated possible topics for this contest sponsored by Hartford's Chamber of Commerce. He'd watched her write her essay on "What It Means to be a Good Citizen" over the course of several nights. He'd served her smiley-face pancakes on the morning she announced she was one of the finalists. And over the past week she had indeed used him as a sounding board as she rehearsed her speech over and over.

"Sure, I know. What's wrong?" he asked, concerned.

She pulled in a breath. "I can't go." He could hear the pressure behind the words, pushing them out.

"Why not?"

"Someone―Whose name is Michel, but that's not important now― booked a bridal shower luncheon here tomorrow but neglected to add it to the schedule. We only found out a little bit ago when the maid of honor called to check on something. So that means we've got 12 hours to do what we normally do in 12 days. And to make matters worse, we're fully booked today and tomorrow, so we're going to have to be especially creative in somehow shoehorning this in."

Her voice dropped lower and Luke could tell she was talking straight from her heart now, directly to him and him alone. "This is my responsibility, Luke. I've got to make this work, and I can't abandon my staff and go running off. But it's Rory!" He could hear the special anguish swirling through her words. "I've always been there for Rory. I've never missed anything this important to her. All of her life, all she's had is me. For all of the school plays and award ceremonies and recitals, the only person she could look for in the audience was me, and I always made sure she saw me there, clapping and cheering. I've always been there for her. I don't miss these things that are important to her. But…" she faltered, "I'm going to miss this." Her voice came back stronger. "I'm _not_ going to miss this, Luke. _You_ are going to make sure I don't miss this!" She paused just a moment to draw in a ragged breath. "Please?"

"Of course," he said instantly. "Tell me what you need me to do."

She sighed with relief and he could imagine the way her shoulders sagged as the tension left them. "Andrew's on his way over to the diner now with his camera. He'll show you how to use it. Tape Rory's speech―and Paris, too, that girl's always good for a laugh. Oh, and anything else you think is mock-worthy. As soon as Andrew leaves, go up and put on your suit and the nicest shirt and tie you've got―"

"I can't just wear jeans and a sweater, or something?" he broke in, annoyed.

"Absolutely not!" Lorelai shot down that idea. "Trust me on this, Luke. Put on the nicest things you own, and even then, you'll feel like the poor relation when you get there and start chatting up Hartford's finest." She paused thoughtfully for a moment. "Don't worry about shaving, though. There isn't time, and your scruffiness has that 'I could have shaved, but I know I'm ruggedly handsome anyway' vibe to it, so I think that'll fly."

"What?" he sputtered.

Just then Andrew flew through the door, breathless and holding his side as he raced up to the counter.

"Andrew's here," Luke said into the phone.

"Oh, good!" Lorelai said, relieved.

"OK," Andrew started, catching his breath, "here's how to use this. Open this, and then push this button, see? Then you can use this to zoom in and out―"

"Wait, wait," Luke growled. He shoved the phone under his chin to hold it and tore off a slip from the order pad, starting to write down the camera instructions. "Show me again."

Andrew went over the camera several times until Luke finally felt he had the hang of it.

"What else?" he asked Lorelai.

She rapidly gave him directions to Chilton and he scribbled them down on additional order slips. "So I'm set?" he asked anxiously as she finished. He knew he needed to get going.

"Just…Just tell her―" He heard the little catch in her voice, and his own heart contracted in sympathy. "Explain to her what happened. Make sure she knows how much I wanted to be there, and how sorry I am that I'm stuck here. Stupid Michel!" she cried out, frustrated.

"It's OK, Lorelai," he said, soothing her. "It's OK. She already knows, but I'll make sure she understands. It'll be fine," he said, sounding as confident as possible for her benefit, because inside, he was not at all sure he could pull this off. But for Lorelai, and for Rory, he'd do his best.

He heard her let out another deep breath. "Thanks, Luke," she said then, with so much tenderness that his heart absolutely stopped for a moment. "This just means the world to me. You have no idea."

"I won't let you down," he pledged, his voice so low and serious that he _could_ have been giving her a solemn vow.

There was a long pause as both of them listened to the other breathing over the phone.

"You'd better get going." Lorelai finally found the presence of mind to remind him.

"Right," he said, his head jerking back abruptly to the present. "I'll see you later."

"Later," she agreed. "Oh, and stay far away from the Chilton moms!"

"_What_?" he asked, once again at a loss, but by then she'd already hung up the phone.

Amazingly, in just over an hour he found himself pushing open the heavy doors to the Chilton auditorium. He stepped over to the side and paused, trying to get his bearings and searching for Rory. He felt like he'd been running a race from the moment he put down the phone after Lorelai's call. He'd dashed upstairs, pulling off his shirt and t-shirt as he took the steps two at a time. He'd spent only moments freshening up in the bathroom, hoping that a splash of aftershave would somewhat mute the smell of fryer grease. Following Lorelai's orders, he skimmed into an almost-new white shirt and threw on his black suit, tying his favorite dark blue tie around his neck as he started back across the room to the mirror. He lost a few minutes searching for his black dress shoes in the back of the closet, but once found they were on his feet in no time. He pulled a comb through his hair and stuffed his hastily-scribbled notes in his pocket. Grabbing the camera, he raced back downstairs, calling a few instructions to his employees as he ran out the door. His poor old truck didn't know what had happened, because as soon as they were out of sight of town the gas pedal was mashed down to the floor and he flew towards Hartford.

Luke was feeling completely disoriented. He hadn't expected the school to be this big, or quite so imposing. He'd had a moment of crisis in trying to figure out which parking lot he should enter, and Lorelai's notes weren't any help at all in trying to surmise which building housed the auditorium. Finally he'd just picked one at random, frantically racing down a dark hallway until a custodian took pity on him and directed him to the right wing.

He couldn't help but note that the custodian's crisp uniform was nicer than about 95% of his own wardrobe.

The little breath that his straining lungs had been able to recapture was suddenly knocked out of them again as something barreled into him.

Staggering from the blow, he tried to regain his balance and looked down at Rory's shining brown hair burrowed into his chest.

"Oh," she cried out, "you're here!" He could hear the relief in her voice. She looked up at him, smiling, but showed no intention of letting him go. "Where's Mom?" she asked, looking around.

"Your mom had an emergency at the inn," he told her, tentatively patting her head. "She sent me instead."

"An emergency?" Rory's big eyes widened even further. "What's wrong?"

Luke mentally kicked himself for scaring her. "Nothing's really wrong," he quickly explained. "Someone―named Michel, apparently―overbooked them, and your mom is trying to fix things, that's all. She's really upset that she can't be here."

"Aw, poor Mom," Rory sighed, obviously disappointed. But then her face brightened as she looked back at him again. "But you're here!" She leaned a little closer and her voice took on a tone of confidentiality. "I was afraid that I was going to have to do this on my own. It seemed like everyone else had their whole families here. I mean, most of these kids have multiple families: Step, half, blended, you name it! They have whole entourages following them, but still, I've got Mom, and she can hold her own, you know? But now I've got you, too, so it's really great!" She hooked her arm under his and positively beamed at him.

He awkwardly patted at her hand this time as he hoped her confidence in him was justified.

"Andrew lent me his camera," he said, raising it for her to see. "That way your mom can still see your speech."

"Smart idea!" Rory said in approval.

"She told me I should tape Paris, too. Which one is she?"

Rory instantly swung up her free arm and pointed towards the stage. "See the really intense girl directing the way the microphone is attached to the podium? That's Paris."

"What's she doing?" Luke watched as the scowling girl employed a small tape measure and then turned to rant at the audiovisual crew standing around her.

"She seems to think that the way the microphone is attached gives some sort of an advantage to male speakers. She raised such a fuss that Headmaster Charleston finally got someone to move it for her."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. That's Paris." Rory grinned. "But she is always good for a laugh. You should definitely tape her for Mom."

"OK," Luke said, noticing but not commenting on how often Rory and Lorelai used the same words. Now more at ease, he looked around the auditorium. "Hey, is that one guy here?"

Rory's eyebrows pulled together in concern. "What guy? Do you mean Tristan?"

"Tristan?" Luke looked at her as if she was crazy. "What the heck's a Tristan?"

She had to grin at that. "Never mind. Who do you mean, then?"

"That guy who wanted to date your mom," he muttered.

"Oh! You mean Mr. Medina." Rory started to look over at the rows where the teachers were starting to congregate.

"Nah, not him." Luke wasn't worried about the teacher. He knew Lorelai hadn't spoken to him in months. "That other guy. The dad. He followed your mom clear back to Stars Hollow to ask her out."

Rory was trying very hard not to laugh. For years she and her mom had wondered how much attention Luke actually paid to anything they babbled to him. She was beginning to comprehend that he paid attention to all of it, and this reference to something that had happened way back on her first day of school in October pretty much confirmed it.

"His daughter really isn't into this sort of stuff," she told him, tamping down her glee. "I'm pretty sure he isn't here."

"Oh." Luke sounded a bit disappointed. He would have liked one look at the guy.

"You'd better take a seat," Rory said anxiously. She was getting waved towards the stage, and as always, she liked to know everything was properly in place.

"You go on. I'll be fine," Luke told her. He smiled and patted her hand one more time. "Knock 'em dead, Tiger!"

She had to laugh at him then. "Tiger?"

"Sorry." He nervously rubbed his jaw. "I don't know where that came from." He was lying. He knew exactly where that came from. It was what his mom and dad had said to him every single time before he ran out to play baseball.

"No, don't be sorry," Rory told him, still grinning "I think I kind of like it." She made her hand into a claw and growled, then giggled and hurried towards the stage.

Instead of taking a seat, Luke leaned his back up against the wall. He wanted to make sure he was able to get an unobstructed shot when Rory's turn came.

Paris was one of the first students to read her essay, and Luke dutifully taped it for Lorelai. He wasn't sure that he could follow all of her arguments, but it sounded to him like she was advocating that the best way to be a good citizen was to get rid of all of the other citizens. He grinned to himself. Maybe he actually had something in common with this odd girl. She maintained her intense, threatening delivery style all through her speech and when she finished, it took a few long moments before the audience began to tentatively clap. She glared at everyone and took her seat beside Rory.

There were several other essays, and then it was Rory's turn. His heart was pounding for her as she took the podium. Pride flowed over him in waves as she smoothly and professionally delivered the words she'd taken such care to select. He couldn't believe any 16-year-old could have such poise. When she finished, smiling gently out at the crowd, he clapped as loudly as he could, beaming at her. He belatedly realized that he still had the camera clutched in his hand as he clapped.

Oops. That would be some interesting video.

After Rory's turn he finally found a seat, feeling much more relaxed. He panned over the crowd to give Lorelai some idea of how many people were here. He taped a small, pale boy who tripped over Paris' feet on the way to the podium, and then proceeded to trip over every third word he uttered. He noticed that Rory gave him an encouraging pat on the back as he tried to get back to his seat without encroaching on Paris' territory.

He tried to focus on the rest of the essays, but frankly, they were dull. The judges held a brief consultation before handing out the awards.

He stood and cheered as Rory was called forward and accepted the third place medal. He filmed her accepting it with grace, her usual serene smile in place. He himself was feeling anything but serene. He very much wanted to go up and have a consultation of his own with the judges. Third place? Come on! What were they thinking? Rory had _owned_ this thing! He huffed inwardly with indignation, but he made sure a broad, proud smile was on his face when she looked over at him in triumph.

She raced over to him as soon as the awards were over and the audience had been thanked for their attendance. He gave her a big, unself-conscious hug.

"Good job!" He told her proudly.

She laughed, bobbing on her toes as she raised the medal hanging around her neck so he could get a better look at it. "Yeah, I'm just in it for the bling, you know!"

"Your mother once told me that all women like something shiny."

"So true," she agreed. "And this doesn't hurt, either." She showed him a certificate they'd given her.

"What's this?" He started to read it over.

"A $500 scholarship towards next year's tuition," she told him, gloating.

His head jerked up. "I didn't know there was money involved."

"Yeah, that's why I did it," she confided. "I know it's not much, but it's $500 less that Mom'll have to repay Grandma and Grandpa."

Luke slowly shook his head. "Did your mom know about this?"

"No," Rory replied. "I wanted to surprise her, and you know, I didn't want to disappoint her if I didn't win anything."

The overwhelming pride he'd felt earlier returned. The love Rory and Lorelai had for each other almost always struck him speechless. "You should have won first place if you ask me," he muttered. "But disappoint your mom? That'll never happen."

She smiled, but quickly discouraged his prejudice. "No," Rory said simply. "Tina's was better than mine. She made her points more clearly, and her essay read more smoothly. She deserved to win first place. But now, James, the guy who took second? I'll agree with you there."

"So, isn't a celebration in order? What do you want? Ice cream?" Luke would have bought her the moon at the moment. "You just say the word."

But before Rory could say anything, they heard her name being called behind them.

"Congratulations, Rory. Wonderful speech!"

"Thanks, Mr. Medina," Rory said, turning to her teacher.

"Is this your father?" Max asked, trying hard to keep an even, pleasant tone around his inquiry. His eyes had been sizing up Luke ever since the crowd had started to disperse. He stood as straight as possible, a polite smile on his lips, as he raised his arm to offer a handshake.

Luke straightened his own back as he brought his hand up to meet the teacher's. "Luke Danes," he said coolly.

"Luke is my…and my Mom's…He's our friend." Rory stumbled over the introduction, not quite sure how to categorize Luke. "Mr. Medina is my English teacher."

"Yes, I've heard you mention him," Luke said, bringing his hand back to rest possessively on Rory's shoulder.

"Where_ is_ your mother tonight?" Max asked Rory.

"She couldn't get away from work," Luke responded before Rory could. "She asked me to cover for her."

"Well, how nice to have…_friends_…available to help with such things," Max's faux pleasant voice didn't try to hide his meaning. "Luke Danes. That sounds really familiar. Oh, the diner, right? You run the diner?" His tone was definitely patronizing.

Luke's eyes narrowed as his smile disappeared. "I _own_ the diner," he said firmly, remembering Lorelai's pep talk from the weekend.

"It's practically our second home." Rory jumped in, anxious to get this conversation over with. "Luke's like family," she added.

Max's discretion suddenly returned and he grudgingly accepted that if Lorelai preferred this scruffy-faced videographer over him, there was nothing he could do about it. He'd always believed the real reason she wouldn't start something with him was because there was someone else. This seemed to confirm it. And really, if this was her taste in men, what did that say about her judgment in other areas? Although he would have loved the opportunity to broaden her horizons and teach her not to accept the first thing she stumbled over.

"Again, Rory, congratulations." He switched his attention back to Rory, smiling genuinely. "No one deserved this more than you. This just proves yet again what a pleasure it's been to have you in my class this year."

"Thanks," Rory said again, looking visibly relieved when Max merely nodded at Luke and walked away.

"Let's get out of here," Luke suggested, and Rory couldn't have agreed more.

They'd only taken a few steps towards the door, however, when a soft, fluttering, feminine voice stopped them.

"Ah, Mademoiselle Lorelai! Très bien! Your essay was magnifique!"

Rory turned back with a sigh. "Merci, Mademoiselle Gillian."

"And is this your père?" She smiled brightly at Luke.

"Non." Rory looked grim, but determined to get through this. "This is Monsieur Danes. Luke. Luke Danes. He's a friend," she added, giving up on the French completely. "A family friend."

"Well, how nice when friends take an interest in your schoolwork." The French accent abruptly disappeared as the teacher gracefully offered her hand. It didn't escape Rory's attention that Mme. Gillian's eyes raked over Luke's left hand, obviously searching for a ring. Her smile increased as she saw none. "If you have children of your own, you know that," she said to Luke, fishing.

"No, no children," he said, bewildered, looking at Rory for help. "Unless you count Kirk."

"Oh, I think Kirk counts," Rory agreed, instinctively stepping closer to offer him some protection.

"Your mother isn't here?" she questioned Rory. "Such a shame! She always livens up our proceedings!"

Luke choked down a laugh.

"Yes, Mom keeps things lively," Rory confirmed.

"You know, Monsieur Danes, if you ever want to sit in on one of Mademoiselle Gilmore's classes, we'd love to have you. We encourage parent―and friend―participation wholeheartedly. If you're ever interested…" She opened a notebook she was carrying and quickly scribbled down her name and number, tearing off the corner of the page and handing it to Luke. "You just give me a call, OK?"

Luke gingerly took the proffered paper. "Um, thanks," he mumbled.

"OK! Well, we need to go," Rory said brightly, starting to drag Luke away.

"À demain!" the teacher called to Rory. "Call me, Monsieur Danes!"

"That wasn't obvious at all," Rory muttered, as they once again headed to the doors.

"What was that about?" Luke asked. "I don't really have to come to your french class, do I?"

"Oh, my God! _Luke_? Luke Danes? What in the world are you doing _here_?"

A petite woman with precise blond streaks in her hair was walking towards them. She had on a Chanel suit that would have been at home in Emily Gilmore's closet. Rory thought she might have had a shocked look on her face, if her surgically-tightened face could have registered surprise.

She apparently saw that Luke had no idea who she was. "Now, don't tell me you don't remember me," she said playfully, "because I sure remember you! I'm Theresa Sturgis. Well, I was Theresa Sturgis. I'm Theresa Whitfield now. Stars Hollow High? I was in your sister's class."

"Oh, sure. Of course," Luke said to be polite, because it was apparent he had no memory of this woman.

"Butch Danes," Theresa drawled out. Rory grinned instantly at hearing Luke's old nickname. "I can't believe I didn't know you had kids here at Chilton. I would have looked you up a long time ago if I'd know that." She was greedily looking Luke over.

"No, no, no kids," he said, quickly. "Rory's not―She's the daughter of a friend of mine," he tried to explain.

"Even better," Theresa said slyly, angling herself a little closer to Luke, while Rory's eyes widened. "They're not really my kids either," she confided. "They're Bruce's. My husband's. I'm not really old enough, you know, to have kids in high school." Rory had to bite down a laugh as the woman actually fluttered her eyelashes at Luke. He looked appalled. "So tell me all about Liz. We were such good friends back then, remember?"

Rory looked away in an attempt to regain her composure, and saw that Madeline and Louise were frantically trying to get her attention. She decided that if Luke could handle Miss Patty on any given day, he could surely handle this trophy wife on his own, so she made her way over to the two girls.

"So is that him?" Madeline asked at once.

"Who?" Rory asked.

"Your father. Is that him?" Louise demanded.

Rory was tired of trying to explain who Luke was. "Um, sure," she sighed. "Why not?"

"I totally see why your mom couldn't resist him," Madeline said.

"_What!_" Rory was appalled.

"I mean, sure, he's old now," Louise observed, "but he's still hot. It's easy to imagine how gorgeous he would have been back in his prime. No wonder your mom fell for him."

"So do they still have feelings for each other?" Madeline pushed.

Rory's mouth had dropped open during this back and forth. "Look, he's not my father. I just said that because…I don't know why, OK? But he's not my dad. His name's Luke and he's a friend from Stars Hollow. My mom asked him to come here to tape me tonight. That's it!"

Madeline and Louise looked at each other, then back at Rory.

"He acts like your dad," Madeline commented. "At least, he acts like you think dads are supposed to act. All proud and loving and stuff."

"So are he and your mom an item?" Louise asked bluntly.

"No!" Rory couldn't believe how much upheaval Luke was creating just by appearing at Chilton. "They're just really good friends!"

"Oh," Louise purred, knowingly, "_those_ type of friends."

"No," Rory insisted again, "it's not like that!"

"Sweetie, it's always like that," Louise informed her. "What's wrong? Do you not like him?"

"No, I lo―" She'd almost said 'love.' "I like Luke a lot. Mom likes him a lot. But they're not dating! They're just friends. They tried dating, but it didn't work out, and now they're just…" Her voice trailed off. She blinked hard, looking back over to where Luke was trying to extricate himself from the former Stars Hollow High groupie. He succeeded and looked over at her, rolling his eyes. She sent him a dorky smile, but she was actually picturing him the way he normally looked at their house, all laughing and comfortable. Scenes from the past few weeks ran through her mind swiftly. Her mom looking at Luke. Luke looking at her mom.

She turned back to the two girls. "They just don't realize what they mean to each other yet," she explained slowly, understanding it herself for the first time.

"Ah, so sweet!" Madeline cooed. "He'll be a good stepdad, once Lorelai reels him in. You're lucky."

"Yeah, usually they just act all interested in you until the wedding, but I think he'll be different," Louise declared. "Well, keep us informed," she ordered. "Come on, Madeline."

"Bye!" Madeline trilled, following Louise out the door.

Just as Rory turned, she saw Headmaster Charleston making a beeline towards Luke. She sprinted over as fast as she could.

"You must be Christopher," Headmaster Charleston said jovially, reaching to shake Luke's hand. "Richard and Emily are good friends of mine. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

Luke shook the man's hand and looked at Rory helplessly.

"This isn't my dad, Headmaster Charleston," Rory jumped in as quickly as she could. "This is Luke Danes. He's a family friend. Mom couldn't be here tonight, so Luke came instead."

"Oh," the Headmaster said, sounding as if he'd been cheated.

"This is quite a school you've got here," Luke said nervously. "Lots of parking lots, and buildings, and - and hallways. And your custodians have really nice uniforms."

Both Rory and the Headmaster looked at him strangely.

"Well, Miss Gilmore, you should be commended on your accomplishment here tonight. I know your grandparents will be very proud." He patted Rory's shoulder, and nodded silently to Luke. "Good night," he added, and hurried off to greet another family.

Luke and Rory sagged up against each other for a moment.

"Where _are_ your grandparents?" Luke asked, suddenly horrified that they might materialize in front of him as well, demanding to know why he was here with their granddaughter.

"Bermuda, I think," Rory said. "Why, I don't know. But I expect they'll hear all about tonight as soon as they get back," she commented, wincing at the thought. She turned to look at Luke's exhausted face. "Are you ready to get out of here?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed, and began to lead the way to the door once again.

They were making their escape down the hall when one of the Chamber of Commerce judges stopped them. "I really enjoyed your speech, young lady," he said to Rory. "You must be very proud of your daughter," he added, looking at Luke.

Luke drew in a breath, winked at Rory, and then put his arm firmly around her shoulders. "I certainly am," he said. "The wife hated to miss it, but she had a board meeting. What are you going to do, right? Now, if you'll excuse us, I've got an early tee time tomorrow."

"Oh, of course!" the man said, pushing open the door for them.

They all but ran for the safety of the old pickup truck, practically choking on their laughter as they dove inside it.

Luke leaned his head back against the driver's seat for a moment or two, still chuckling. "OK, so ice cream?" he asked then, sitting up and turning the key in the ignition.

Rory wiped her eyes and turned to him, all shining and happy. "Would it be OK if we went to see Mom first?"

"Of course," he agreed, backing the truck out of the parking spot and starting towards home.

Rory was on a high from all of the emotion of the night and she babbled on giddily in a way Luke had rarely heard, sounding more and more like Lorelai to his ears. He found that all he had to do was smile occasionally or murmur 'uh huh' as she prattled on.

Luckily that was all she did require of him, because as Luke glanced over at this charming, sweet, absolutely wonderful girl, he found that his own feelings were in an uproar. He felt as though his insides had turned into a lava lamp. But instead of lava, it was anger that was forming huge blobs inside of him, breaking off and floating to the surface, then sinking down and reforming into even bigger, messier pools of fury. Inside he was hurling curses at whatever fate had determined that he had grown up in Stars Hollow, far away from Lorelai. He swore at those clueless, self-centered parents that had allowed their fifteen-year-old daughter to slip unsupervised outside onto her balcony one night between dinner courses. And most of all, the knowledge that he would never be able to share in the creation of this beautiful little being currently sitting beside him in his old truck filled him with despair.

By the time they were a few miles outside of Stars Hollow Rory had exhausted her commentary and had leaned back against the seat with a peaceful smile on her face, her eyes slipping closed. Luke had found the 'off' switch on his lava lamp of anger and had stoically accepted that his life had taken a different path. But he did have one new insight.

He'd always assumed that one day he'd have a family. His parents had been very happy together, and he'd always just assumed that someday he'd have that too. As the years went by and he was still alone, he pushed that vague idea of a happy family further and further from his mind. It wasn't that he didn't want it; he did. He just had no idea how to find someone who would live up to that standard of love set by his parents. He didn't want to settle for anything less than what he'd witnessed firsthand.

But tonight he'd figured it out. While half the population of Chilton mistook him for Rory's father, all of the lies he'd told himself for the past five years had been torn away.

He didn't want just 'a' family. He wanted a very specific family. And half of that family was sitting drowsily right beside him, with a shiny new medal around her neck, longing to get to Lorelai.

And he felt the same way. No matter how fast he urged the truck to go, he couldn't get to her fast enough.

He swallowed hard against the yearning inside of him. He just didn't know how he could ever convince her to feel the same way about him.

The 'Welcome to Stars Hollow' sign appeared from out of the darkness. He tried to ignore his sense of despondency and cautiously leaned over to shake Rory awake.

"Mom?" she asked, half-asleep.

"No," he said gently, "but we'll be there soon."


	7. Roast Beef, 1st Dates, & the Foyer Thing

"What are you doing?" Luke yelled across the kitchen at Lorelai. "I said to turn that over now! Do it before it's ruined!"

What she'd been doing was reading a recipe on the back of a can of beef broth just to have something to do. Slowly she put it down, turning to glare at Luke as she did so. "You realize, right, that this is my kitchen? I really don't like being yelled at in my own kitchen." To further illustrate that point, she casually sauntered over to the Dutch oven smoking on the stove. "Plus, it was your idea to come over here and make dinner, not mine," she added petulantly.

Cautiously she picked up the huge 2-prong fork thingy he'd brought over. She used it to poke at the roast being browned in the pan, finally getting a secure enough grip to raise the slab of meat and turn it over so that the other side could be seared.

"Be careful," Luke warned, just as the beef slipped off the fork and hit the bottom of the sizzling pan, causing splatters of hot fat to jump out and land on her bare legs.

She yelped in pain and hopped back, rubbing her legs.

"I told you to be careful!" Luke abandoned his prep area on the kitchen table and rushed over to grab a wet dishrag. His eyes raked over her long legs and he exhaled in relief to see she wasn't really hurt. He tossed her the dishrag while he grabbed a paper towel to wipe up the splatters on the floor before one of them could slip in it. "If you insist on wearing shorts, you should at least have on an apron."

Lorelai held the damp cloth soothingly against the thigh that had gotten the majority of the stinging grease. "And just where would I get this mythical apron you speak of?" she griped at him.

"I…" Luke let the thought trail off as he repositioned the hat on his head. He was well-aware that he'd been snapping at her since his epiphany from last Wednesday night. He didn't trust himself to not say or do the wrong thing around her, so much so that he'd gone in the opposite direction, being crabby and disagreeable just to keep a check on his emotions.

It _had_ been his idea to show the girls how to cook and starting with their favorite, pot roast, had been a no-brainer. He'd picked this day to start because school was out and Rory would be home, and he trusted Rory to watch timers and read ingredients far more than he did Lorelai. But Rory had made up with Dean on the last day of school and in the short time since then had been largely MIA. Lorelai thought it was sweet and cute that they wanted to spend so much time together, he thought it was just asking for trouble, and Rory wandered around looking like every other girl mooning over a boy. Lorelai told him not to worry, that it'd all pass soon and Rory'd be back to normal, but he really wanted to ban Dean from setting foot inside the Stars Hollow city limits for the rest of the summer.

He took a long, slow, deep breath. "I'm glad you're all right," he told her.

"I don't know that I'm all right," she pouted. "I might be traumatized for life. Why does the pan have to be so freakin' hot?"

"Because you want to get a nice sear on it," he explained. "That's what keeps the juices in and makes it more flavorful as it cooks."

"Well, cooking's dangerous," she groused, looking once more at her leg. "What's next?" she sighed, throwing the cloth back towards the sink.

He walked over to the pan and checked the underside of the roast. "I think it's browned enough," he observed. He slipped his hands into oven mitts and lifted the big pot off of the burner. He added some sliced onions and some diced garlic to it, and then motioned for Lorelai to bring over the can of beef broth.

"Pour that in," he told her, "but stand back, and do it slowly."

Once that step was accomplished, he opened the oven door, put the lid on the pot, and slid it inside.

"Now, let that simmer in there for a couple of hours, and add the potatoes and carrots about an hour before we're going to eat," Luke reminded her. He turned back to the table, where he was trying to quickly throw together the ingredients for an apple crisp.

"What should I do?" Lorelai asked. "I feel useless."

He glanced over at her. "Peel the carrots and potatoes," he instructed.

"Um, sure," she said, uncertainty evident in her voice. She went to the sink and picked up a carrot in one hand, the peeler in the other. She studied them for a long moment before awkwardly attempting to scrape the carrot against the peeler.

Luke tore his attention away from the pastry blender he was using to cut the butter into the dry ingredients that would become the topping for the apple crisp. His plan had been to have Rory do this part while he coached Lorelai with the roast. But now Rory wasn't here and he only had a few more minutes to devote to the cooking lesson before he needed to run back to the diner. He dropped everything when he saw how Lorelai was handling the vegetable peeler. He didn't have time for this!

He was behind her at the sink in two long strides. "Don't do it like that," he chided her, reaching around her to grab her hands. "You'll slice your fingertips right off!" He picked up her left hand holding the carrot with his left hand, while his right took control of her hand holding the peeler.

"Here," Luke said. "Watch." Quickly he positioned her hand correctly on the peeler. Leaning forward, he smoothly made her hands take long, sure swipes at the carrot, peeling it cleanly. He forced her hand to drop that carrot and pick up another one. "Like this," he said, starting the process over again.

Suddenly the overwhelming scent of cherries stopped him dead. The scent, he well knew, was from her shampoo. The scent was overpowering because his nose, and his chin, and his cheek were right against her hair. He'd been so intent on the food preparation that he hadn't registered how closely he was standing behind her. His length was pushed up against her back and she was pressed against the edge of the sink, his arms enveloping her, his hands firmly holding her hands. One of the paper-thin slices peeled from the carrot couldn't have found room to fit between them.

Abruptly Luke dropped her hands. The half-peeled carrot and the peeler clattered into the sink.

He needed to step back. He _knew_ he needed to step back. But instead he placed his hands on the edge of the sink on either side of her, for just a moment. For just a moment he gave in to the sensation of leaning up against her. For just a moment he let his face nuzzle against her silky, sweet-smelling hair.

Sanity returned in a rush and Luke forced his arms to push himself back. He took a step over to the side, folding his arms tightly across his chest. He looked down at the floor, breathing hard.

Lorelai continued to grip the edge of the sink for several moments. Finally she pushed herself away, too, stepping to the opposite side. She mirrored Luke by crossing her arms and looking down. Her cute summer top with the pink and orange polka dots rose and fell while she gasped for breath.

Eventually the blood pounding in his ears subsided and Luke could hear Morey playing the piano next door. A breeze floated through the hot kitchen from the open door. The burner on the stove made small ticking sounds as it cooled down.

"Wow," Lorelai finally said, and he could tell she was trying to laugh and sound normal. "A couple of months ago, that would have been one of those moments I was rambling on about to you." She made herself look at him. "Right?" she asked.

"Right," Luke muttered.

"I mean, it's a good thing we know better now, right?" she asked with intensity, carefully pacing her words. Her eyes searched his face.

"Right," he agreed again, too quickly.

"That's what I thought," she snapped, a bitter note evident in her voice.

"Look, Lorelai―"

They both jumped when the front door slammed.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry!" Rory called as she ran into the kitchen. "I know I'm later than I said I'd be. I walked with Dean to Doose's and then I stopped to say hi to Lane. And Dean can't come to eat with us because he's working till they close tonight." She stopped to draw a breath. "Wow! It already smells fantastic in here!" She looked around. "What should I do?"

Luke cleared his throat. "Wash your hands and then come over here to help me with dessert," he instructed, moving over to the table.

"OK," Rory said, agreeably. She went to the sink at once. "Aw, poor carrot!" she said, holding up the carrot that had nearly gotten severed on the vegetable peeler a few minutes earlier. "What happened?"

"Nothing," Lorelai answered dully. "Nothing happened here at all."

* * *

><p>Lunchtime the next day saw Lorelai swaggering into the kitchen. With a flourish she fished her CHiPs lunchbox out of the inn's refrigerator. She'd scored it at the town's rummage sale but this was the first time she'd had a reason to use it.<p>

She fixed herself a cup of coffee and then sat down on a stool at the table, taking special care in arranging her roast beef sandwich in front of her. Then she waited for Sookie to finally turn around and notice her.

Sookie, however, was thwarting her plans by being too interested in whatever she was stirring in a huge soup kettle.

Lorelai's patience wore out. She took a huge bite of her sandwich. "Mmm," she moaned, loudly. "Boy, this is a good sandwich. People wish they had a sandwich this good."

Mention of possibly foreign food in her kitchen got Sookie's attention. She gave one final stir, put on the lid and turned down the heat before coming over to see what Lorelai was eating.

"Where'd you get the sandwich?" she asked suspiciously.

"_I_ made the sandwich," Lorelai said proudly.

"_You_ made the sandwich?" Sookie sounded doubtful.

"Not only did I make the sandwich, _I_ made the roast beef!" Lorelai bragged.

"_You_ made the roast beef?" No way Sookie was buying that. She leaned over and sniffed at it. "Luke made the roast beef!" she crowed.

"Luke showed me how to make the roast beef," Lorelai amended. "He came over yesterday and showed me and Rory how to make a whole meal. It was fantastic. Rory and I think now that the only reason we never liked vegetables before is because we didn't cook them ourselves. They taste better when you've slaved in the kitchen yourself over them."

"Did Luke stay and eat with you?" Sookie asked, smiling like she already knew the answer.

"Yes, and I found out all of the steamy details they'd been keeping from me about Luke's adventures at Chilton." Lorelai paused to take another bite, then continued on as she chewed. "Apparently Mr. Danes was a big hit. He got hit on twice."

"No!" Sookie shrieked, delighted. "Tell me!"

"Rory's French teacher was quite smitten, gave him her number and everything."

"What a hussy!"

"Yep. And then some former Stars Hollow High cutie made a play for him."

"Who?" Sookie's face flushed in annoyance.

"Don't know her name. You'll have to ask Rory." Lorelai grinned. "Better yet, ask Luke. I love to watch him turn 13 shades of purple."

"Well, don't worry," Sookie huffed. "Luke would never look at someone else. You'll never have to worry about that."

"Sookie," Lorelai began, immediately uncomfortable, "you know we're not―"

"Lorelai!" Sookie cried, out of patience. "What is it going to take to finally make you fall for the guy?"

The current bite of the sandwich was refusing to be swallowed. Lorelai saw that she had a blob of mayonnaise on her thumb. Normally she would have just licked it off but the fear that it might choke her if she tried caused her to wipe it off with her napkin instead. She cleared her throat and looked off to the side.

"Actually, Sook," she said, slowly, "I'm pretty sure that ship has already sailed."

It took a few moments for that to sink in. "Oh, my God," Sookie finally gasped, as Lorelai's meaning became clear. "Lorelai! You didn't tell me? You mean that the two of you are finally―"

"No," Lorelai said firmly, squashing Sookie's glee before it became too painful for her. "Not the two of us. Me. Just me."

"I don't get it. What do you mean?"

"I mean…" She sighed, busying herself by putting her sandwich back into the baggie and taking great care in cleaning up her eating area. "I mean, he's cute, he's hot, he's a truly nice guy, he's kind, he cooks, he fixes stuff, he takes care of me, and...he even loves my daughter." She slammed shut the lunchbox. "Hell, Sookie, he's perfect, and I'd be crazy not to see it."

"Then what's the problem?" Sookie asked, perplexed.

Lorelai shook her head. She gave herself a brief pep talk about how she was going to say this without blubbering to Sookie. "He doesn't want me." The words came out calmly enough but she couldn't keep her bottom lip from quivering.

"Oh, Lorelai. That's not true," Sookie disputed her.

"Yes, it is," Lorelai insisted. "He says we're not a good match."

Sookie couldn't believe what she was hearing. She plopped down on the stool across from Lorelai. "Luke said that?" she gasped. "He actually said that?"

Lorelai nodded, not trusting herself to say anything more.

Sookie was shaking her head. "You guys have talked about this?"

"We talk about lots of stuff," Lorelai said mournfully. "I asked him if he'd consider changing our friendship into something more, but he said he'd rather be friends."

"I can't believe this," Sookie said faintly. "I always thought that if he ever had the chance, he'd be all over you."

Lorelai snorted. "Please. Yesterday, by accident, we ended up like this―" She put one of her hands up against the other to illustrate. "He was horrified. He could barely look at me the rest of the night."

"My head's spinning," Sookie muttered. "I feel like I've stepped into an alternate reality or something."

"And I think something else happened the night he went to Chilton," Lorelai confessed. "I don't know what. I mean, I think he had a good time. He came back just glowing with pride over Rory, but ever since then he's been just so irritated at me. I don't know what I've done. Maybe it's because he can sense how I really feel about him. That's why I was so relieved when he suggested coming over to make dinner last night, but I don't think he would've said six words to me if Rory hadn't have been there. It's almost like we're back to square one again."

Sookie leaned across the table to pat Lorelai's hand. "Sweetie," she said sorrowfully, "I'm so sorry. What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Lorelai said dully. "I'm going to keep on the same way that I have been, for as long as I can. I'm glad he's my friend, Sook. I wouldn't want to change that, you know? I don't want to lose that. So we'll just keep on with the friendship thing. Who knows? Maybe someday I'll meet someone else, some other perfect guy, and I'll look back on this whole thing with Luke now and realize he's right. He's not the guy for me." She could feel the pressure building in her eyes as tears threatened to spill out. She looked away, snuffling, not wanting to fall apart in front of Sookie.

"I'm so mad at Luke," Sookie said with a scowl. "I want to go give him a piece of my mind!"

"Don't do that," Lorelai implored. "It's not his fault. It's not his fault that he doesn't love me."

It was the 'love' that did it. The tears started flowing. Sookie jumped up and ran around the table to throw her arms around Lorelai.

"This is not the way things were supposed to work out," Sookie said helplessly.

Lorelai drew in a shaky breath, trying to regain her composure. "It's not all bad," she said, still trying to be positive. "I've made a good friend. And someday things will be back to normal again. I'll be able to look at him and not think about what could have been." She wiped at her face with her napkin and gulped down the remaining tears. Her hand slid down her throat, her fingers automatically searching for the heart that she deliberately hadn't worn today. "Someday I'll wear the necklace again," she promised. Her eyes came to rest on the lunchbox sitting in front of her. She swallowed hard.

"Someday," she said, looking into Sookie's sympathetic eyes, "I may even be able to eat roast beef again."

* * *

><p>A few nights later Luke finished cleaning up the diner and looked outside. The long June day still hadn't turned fully into night. The remaining glow in the sky made him feel restless.<p>

In no time he was striding towards Lorelai's house. Maybe she'd agree to go on a walk with him. He remembered a certain grove of trees on the far side of the lake, perfect for watching the moon rise. Secluded. Romantic.

He gave himself a shake. He was not going to act like some sort of lovesick fool and risk scaring her off. He hadn't waited for her this long to ruin it by jumping in now before he'd figured out a way to secure her heart. He needed a way to make her see that they belonged together. But until then he needed to keep on being her buddy. He didn't want her to think that anything had changed. He needed to just keep hanging around.

He laughed at himself. Like there's any way I _could_ stay away, he thought.

As Luke approached the house he saw Lorelai sitting on the porch steps. Drawing closer, he could see she was clutching a bottle of beer. Another one waited on the step next to her.

Grinning, he settled himself down in front of her, resting carefully back against her knees. "This one for me?" he asked, picking up the bottle on the steps.

Without waiting on a reply he brought it to his lips. It was empty.

He turned to look at her then with some concern. Her eyes were vacantly staring out into the growing darkness as her fingers rubbed against the label on the bottle she was clutching. "Hey, what's going on?" he asked softly.

Lorelai's eyes skittered to his face then, as though she'd just become aware of his presence. She sighed and put down her bottle. She raised her hands and pulled her ponytail tighter, then slipped her hands down between her knees, once again staring straight ahead.

"There's this guy…" she said, very slowly.

Luke felt bands of ice form across his chest. It was hard to breathe. He knew nothing good was going to come after those three words. He grabbed what had been her second bottle of beer and raised it to up to take a long gulp.

"He's some sort of sales rep for a copier company," Lorelai continued. "His team meets at the inn about every third week. He's always flirted with me, and I…Well, you know me. I flirt back. Anyway, he finally asked me out today."

"Are you going to go?" He couldn't believe he'd gotten the words out.

"I don't know," she said, truthfully.

A small spark of hope flared in chest, melting the ice enough that he could draw a full breath. "What's the matter? Is he ugly?" he snapped, taking another drink.

She pondered that. "No," she finally decided. "He's handsome, I guess. Sort of has that Pierce Brosnan thing going on. Lots of dark curls."

Well, that wasn't what he wanted to hear. "He's short," Luke guessed next.

Lorelai's gaze landed on his head. "He's not as tall as you, but I can still wear heels with him."

"He's stupid, then," Luke tried, knowing that stupid was the one thing she couldn't tolerate.

"No, he's pretty sharp," she replied. "He can keep up with me, anyway. And he's a movie buff. That's usually what we banter about."

Luke angrily took another swig of the beer. _They_ bantered, damn it! Bantering was their thing!

"He sounds perfect, then," he said, scathingly. "What are you waiting for?"

She sighed and looked back off across the street. "I don't know. Shouldn't I feel something? Shouldn't there be some sort of spark, or something? Shouldn't I be spending all of my free time doodling his name on the cover of my notebook or something?"

Relief shot through him. This was going to be simpler than he thought. "So don't go," he advised, breathing easier.

She rubbed her palms against her knees nervously. "It's just…" She blew out a breath. "You know how I feel about my parents, right?"

He looked at her then, relieved to see that she was looking him in the eyes. "Yes," he confirmed.

"There's nothing they have that I want. There's nothing in their lives that I'd want to copy, except…this one thing."

"What?" he asked softly.

She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "They have each other," she sighed. "It's always been that way. The two of them are a unit. They're totally united. It's them against the world. They have each other's backs. Add any other cliché about coupledom that you can think of, because that's what they've had all of these years. You can't break them apart. And they just radiate this confidence because they know they're solid. And even though I don't agree with 99% of the stuff they do, I've always had to admire their commitment to each other."

Luke nodded, even though it had grown so dark now he wasn't sure if she could see him. "Yeah, I know what you mean. My folks were like that, too. Every single night when Dad came home, Mom would drop what she was doing and run to the backdoor to give him a hug and a kiss. And it wasn't because she was some sort of dutiful housewife or something," Luke hastened to add. "She was just genuinely glad to see him again."

Lorelai chuckled. "Well, I'm sure that Emily Gilmore never did that. But I can remember seeing them at parties, trading glances across the room. Like they were so attuned to each other that they could communicate that way. It always fascinated me."

"My parents did that too," Luke revealed, his voice low and deep. He'd forgotten the fear that had started this conversation because now it felt just like all of the other long talks they'd had with each other concerning their early lives. "We'd be at church, or at one of the crazy town festivals, and they'd constantly be looking for each other. And it wasn't because they didn't trust each other, or anything like that. They just…well, missed each other, if they weren't together."

There was a pause. The noises of the summer night became evident. Someone was still dribbling a basketball up the street. Crickets chirped and the branches of the nearby trees rustled as a breeze moved through them. The television droned on inside the house.

"God, I want that," Lorelai finally said, so wistfully that Luke felt his heart clench. "I want a guy to be happy that I've made it home. I want someone to check to see where I am, even if it's just across the room. I want to be part of a couple like that."

Neither of them said anything for a few moments. Lorelai was too busy thinking and Luke didn't trust himself to speak.

"So I've got to try, right?" she asked painfully. "If I want that, if I want to find that guy, I've got to try, right? Even if I don't think I feel anything for this guy, he could turn out to be my soulmate, couldn't he? So don't I have to try?" She raised her eyes up to Luke's. There was just enough light filtering out from the house that he could see them glittering back at him.

Luke swallowed very hard. He carefully set her now empty bottle of beer back on the step. He started to rise up from where he'd been sitting. It took a lot of effort, and he felt suddenly very old.

"I want that for you, too, Lorelai," he said, his calm, tender voice masking the torment he was feeling. "I want you to find that guy. I want you to be happy." He summoned up every bit of strength he had to make his voice sound encouraging. "You should definitely go on that date."

Lorelai nodded, but she looked as though agony was shooting through every part of her. "You think so?" she asked through stiff lips.

"Yep," Luke confirmed, putting his hands on his hips as he looked down the street. "You should go call him," he muttered. "Put him out of his misery."

She rubbed her fingers, as though they were sore from clutching at the step under her. "So, I guess that's just the way it is then," she sighed. Her eyes never left him as he stepped down to the lawn.

"Don't you want to come in?" Lorelai asked desperately. "I could…I could get you your own beer," she offered.

"Nah," Luke said. "I need to get back." He turned to her and somehow managed to smile. "And you've got a phone call to make."

"Oh," she whispered. "I guess I do."

He nodded goodbye and walked down the street, feeling her eyes locked on him as he went away from her, until mercifully the darkness hid him from her view.

* * *

><p>The next few days zipped by in a blurred combination of normalcy and panic, and in what seemed like no time at all, Luke found himself striding once again towards Lorelai's house. This time, however, it was early evening so there would be no darkness to use as a disguise. There would be no way to hide from whatever was going to happen. It was all going to be out in the open, and be possibly front page news, too, should Babette be watching.<p>

Luke had no plan, and that worried him terribly. All he knew was that he was out of time and he had to do something. He'd even thought, briefly, about grabbing a chain from the back of his truck and bolting her front door closed with it, but he realized that would probably be considered some sort of criminal act of confinement that would only cause the local constable to be called and not do anything towards winning her heart. Not to mention she could just walk out the back door.

He needed another idea. Desperately.

Luke's long legs combined with his agitation to eat up the distance to Lorelai's house quickly. He'd decided to walk instead of taking the truck, not only to avoid the chain temptation, but to give himself time to come up with something sensible to say to her. Some compelling reason to make her stay. Something to make her want him.

There was her house. There was her Jeep parked under the tree. Now his feet were on her grass. His boots were climbing up the steps. His fist was knocking against her door. And still he had no idea of what to say.

He felt his heart pounding at the same time he heard her walking to open the door.

"Oh, hey, Luke." Her pretty face was tilted at him in confusion. "Tonight's my 'date,' remember?" Lorelai used air quotes around 'date' and pursed her mouth. "I can't hang out tonight, remember?"

If he could just somehow breathe, Luke thought everything would be OK. But she just looked so pretty that it was killing him. She had on a dark green wraparound dress, decorated with a tropical print. It was sleeveless and her soft arms were bare, making him remember the night at the movies when it had been his responsibility to keep her warm. Her feet had on white sandals with a very small heel, and he was struck with a crazy hope that maybe this guy wasn't as tall as she said he was. Her hair was caught up in the back in one of those messy ponytails that seemed to be all the current rage, that frankly, he just didn't get. He wondered which shampoo she'd used today because somehow he'd lost track.

Abruptly he noticed that she wasn't wearing the necklace he'd given her. Of course not. She wouldn't wear his necklace to go out with another guy.

"Luke?" Her face was drawn with concern now. "Are you OK?"

He opened his mouth. Wet his lips. If he could just somehow get some words out.

Lorelai seemed really worried now. She reached up and gently felt his face with her hands, checking him for fever. "Hey, what's wrong?"

Luke closed his eyes. Leaned into her hands.

"Don't go," he whispered, so quietly that even he couldn't hear the words.

"What?" Lorelai asked, her eyes still darting over him as she tried to figure out what was wrong.

He sighed. Took her hands into his. Looked straight into her eyes. "Don't go," he begged, the words coming right from his heart.

She apparently thought this was some sort of act. She smiled and laughed a little bit. "I have to go, Luke. I said I would. But tomorrow night we can hang out together again, OK?"

Lorelai took a step further back into the foyer, but Luke didn't let go. He crossed the threshold into the entry of the house, following her. Neither of them had any hands free to close the door.

He shook his head, bringing one of his hands up to hold her face, while the other went to her shoulder.

"Don't go," he said again, more firmly. "I don't…I don't want you to go."

Her mouth opened and he could see the questions rolling through her brain. Confusion spread over her face. Her dark blue eyes searched his.

"It'll kill me if you go, Lorelai," he said gruffly, his heart nearly breaking as he gently touched her cheek. "I can't… The thought of you being with anyone else...I can't stand it."

Lorelai shook her head, helplessly. "Luke? I don't-"

"Please," he pleaded. He didn't care that he was begging. "Please."

She stared at him, breathing hard.

He felt so powerless. Words were just not his thing. He needed something else. Something to make her see. Something to make her understand.

There seemed to be only one solution, and in sheer desperation, Luke kissed her.

For the first few moments he felt nothing except for the panicked realization that he was actually kissing her. Then the thought flashed through his brain that this may well be the only time he'd ever get to kiss her so he'd better make it count. He pushed everything aside except for the delicious sensations washing over him from her lips and body, and he tried his best to return the favor, kissing her with all the passion he'd kept locked away for years.

He'd miscalculated his intensity and they crashed back against the foyer wall. Lorelai groaned and he eased up, worried that he'd hurt her, but she dispelled that notion by latching onto him so tightly that he thought maybe she was never going to let him go. Her mouth parted under his and her tongue touched his. He whimpered then. He would have liked to call it something more manly, but he whimpered, his knees feeling weak. He reached a hand out to the wall, afraid he didn't have the strength to hold them both up.

Suddenly he felt her pushing against his chest and he released her, stepping back. Her hands were still gripping his arms, but she wasn't looking at him. Her dazed focus was somewhere off in the distance. Both of them were breathing very hard.

He reached for her, wanting so very much to kiss her again, but she shook her head and stepped away, still not focusing on him.

"Shut the door," she ordered mechanically, stepping backwards into the living room.

Luke heard her but his brain was incapable of following the simplest of instructions at that moment.

He watched as she continued to walk backwards until at last she crashed into the desk. She fumbled behind her and located her purse by touch. Still not looking, she dumped her purse out on the chair. She glanced down just enough to grab her phone. Opening it, she scrolled through the numbers.

"Craig," she said when her call was answered, still breathless, still staring somewhere over Luke's shoulder, "it's Lorelai. Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to be able to make it tonight. A friend…" She finally met Luke's eyes. "A friend needs me tonight."

Luke took a step into the room, shaking his head emphatically. He put his arms out to her.

"Not just tonight, Lorelai," he implored her. He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing any other way to explain it to her. "It's not just for tonight. It's for… well...forever."

That made her gasp and the hand that wasn't holding the phone pressed itself over her heart.

"Sorry," Lorelai managed to say into the phone. "But I've got to go." She dropped the phone without looking at it.

She took a running step towards him and he rushed from across the room, and as they met she gave a sort of twisted leap into his arms, which knocked him off-balance and they landed together on the couch. He wrapped his arms around her to press her to him, and she leaned down to kiss him, showing him that the first kiss had been a mere warm-up.

Several long, sultry minutes rolled by.

Finally Lorelai pushed herself upright, her face flushed, her eyes glowing. That glorious, mischievous smile of hers; that smile that he so loved, was breaking across her face. "Wow," she gasped out. "Just think of all the time we would have saved if we'd just tried the foyer thing when I first suggested it, because Babe, we are really good at this!"

"Shut up," Luke suggested tenderly. He hauled her down against him again and she willingly snuggled up as close as she could.

It wasn't close enough for him, though. He was desperate to get closer to her. He rolled, pressing her against the back of the couch. She anchored her arms around him and pulled him into her, throwing a leg over his.

The wraparound dress no longer lived up to its name. Luke ran a exploring hand down to her foot and eased off her shoe, and then, for the first time, he was able to let his hand caress the silky length of one of those legs he'd devoted so much thought to over the years. He slowly moved upwards, relishing each silken inch of bliss.

"Hey, Mom, what time are you―_Ahhhhhh!_" Rory's scream reached a pitch that made dogs howl down the street.

Luke skyrocketed up in shock and Lorelai gave him a shove at the same time, causing him to slide off the couch and hit the floor. Lorelai scrambled up, awkwardly trying to step over him. She swayed, off-balance in just one shoe, and tried to pull her dress back together as she faced her stunned daughter.

"Rory!" she said brightly, panting slightly. "Um, Luke came over!"

"Yes, I can see that," Rory said, sounding calmer.

Lorelai looked down at Luke, who'd decided that just sitting on the floor wasn't such a bad idea. She looked at Rory, who was impatiently waiting for an explanation.

"It turns out that even though we weren't cut out to do the whole dating thing, we're actually pretty good at something else," she giggled.

"It's more than that!" Luke barked out from his seat on the floor.

"I know that!" both Rory and Lorelai said to him, at the same time. The girls looked at each other then and grinned.

Rory crossed over to Luke and offered a hand to help him up. "I was wondering just how long it was going to take you guys to see what you had going. I was afraid I was going to have to do some sort of goofy sitcom thing and lock you in a closet together or something."

"Which closet?" Lorelai asked, giving up on her disheveled ponytail and pulling it down completely. She kicked off her remaining shoe.

"I thought the big walk-in pantry at the inn," Rory said, trying to be serious. "It's cozy, but big enough to stretch out, and there'd be plenty of food. I figured I could get Sookie to help me."

"That probably would've worked," Lorelai agreed. "I don't think he could have resisted me much longer." She gave Luke a wink.

"Well, thankfully it didn't come to that," Luke commented dryly. He knew how useless it was to try and stop them once they started on one of their bits. His arms reached out on their own accord and grabbed Lorelai, pulling her against his side. He brushed a kiss against her temple before he could stop himself.

"Sorry," he then muttered to Rory, flushing.

"It's OK," Rory said indulgently. "I'd prefer if you'd keep that sort of stuff to a minimum around me, but it's OK if you slip up sometimes."

Lorelai wrapped her arms around Luke's waist, squeezing him as she laid her face briefly against his chest, momentarily hiding her beautifully happy smile.

"Well," she said, patting his shoulder before stepping away. "It appears I'm not going out to eat after all, so I'm going upstairs to change. I would suggest, Food Guru, that you get yourself in the kitchen and figure out what you're going to feed me instead." She swept grandly over to the stairs.

Luke rubbed his head as he tried to pull himself together. He looked around blankly. He really had no idea what had happened to his hat.

He started towards the kitchen, Rory following him. "Is there any roast beef left?" he asked.

She laughed. "Luke, think about that. Do you think there's any roast beef left in this house?"

He stopped and looked back at her. "No, I guess not," he grumbled. "Is there anything left? Will it do me any good at all to go into the kitchen and look?"

"I think there's still some sort of leafy, green thing in the one refrigerator drawer," she told him. "Ooh! And Pop Tarts! We always have Pop Tarts," she added.

He sighed. "We might just as well order pizza tonight, then. But tomorrow night, I'm cooking you something decent. What's your favorite meal?" he asked Rory. "Lasagna, right?"

She nodded approvingly. "Bribing the daughter. Very smart."

Luke stopped short and turned towards her. "Rory, do I need…Do I need to bribe you?" he asked nervously.

Rory smiled and shook her head. "About you and Mom?" She stepped closer to him. "No, you don't have to bribe me about that, Luke. That makes me very happy."

"Good," he sighed in relief, patting her shoulder not quite as awkwardly as he used to.

"But I'll take lasagna anytime," she confirmed. "And you know what else? We'd better really turn you into a golfer so you can always use the early tee time excuse to sneak out of Chilton, in case you have to pretend to be my dad again."

Luke cleared his throat, looking down at the floor. "That's something that I hope I don't have to pretend about someday. About being your dad. Not the golf part," he hurriedly clarified, worrying too late that he probably shouldn't be saying such things to Rory when he hadn't yet mentioned them to Lorelai.

Rory put her hands in her pockets and rocked back on her heels, looking away. When she looked at him again, her eyes were shining just like her mother's. "I hope that too," she told him. "Someday."

"So, pizza!" he said, breaking their sweet-but-awkward moment. "You might as well go order it," he told her, jerking his shoulder towards the phone. "You know what you guys want. Just add something normal for me."

"_You_ are the one who's not normal," Rory pronounced, heading for the phone in the kitchen. "But I'll get you a veggie delite anyway."

Lorelai clattered back down the steps just then, dressed in shorts and a tank top. She checked to see where Rory was before she grabbed Luke and walked him back against the stairs. She kissed him quickly but heatedly.

"When you go home tonight, I'm goin' with you," she whispered to him.

"No, Lorelai," he insisted, "that's not what―"

"Hush, you," she interrupted, pressing a finger against his lips. "I didn't say I was _staying_. But I am definitely walking you back home." Her eyes twinkled at him.

He pushed back her hair behind her ears and traced his finger under the black cord that held the crystal heart around her neck, marveling that he got to do that now. "You realize that I'll just have to turn around then and walk _you_ back home?"

"Part of my evil plan," she murmured, pressing her mouth against his skin right under his ear.

"Good plan," he sighed, closing his eyes and losing himself in the sensation.

"Daughter coming in!" Rory shouted, and they jumped apart.

She shook her head at their flushed, guilty faces. "You know, I _could_ just go to Lane's," she offered.

"No," Luke insisted immediately.

"OK," Lorelai agreed, just as quickly.

"Wow, Mom, nice to know where I rate," Rory grumbled.

Lorelai laughed, but rubbed at her chin in frustration. "Sorry, Sweets, you know I love you. There's just a lot of big, new stuff I'm trying to adjust to."

"Will the pizza help?" Rory asked, mock-seriously.

Lorelai crossed over to Rory, throwing her arms over her shoulders in a quick hug. "Pizza solves everything," she stated. She gave Luke a long, heated look over Rory's head.

'_Later_,' she mouthed at him.

He nodded, trying to conceal the tremor of excitement running through him at the thought. That was one part of all the big, new stuff that he couldn't wait to get used to.

* * *

><p>Lorelai was walking Luke home. It was taking much longer than normal because it turned out there were many, many hidden nooks and crannies between her house and the diner that were perfect for stealing a kiss or two. Or three.<p>

His arm was draped loosely over her shoulder and her arm was entwined around his waist. They hadn't talked yet about sharing the news of their altered status, but right now they didn't care if anyone saw them or not. It felt too good and they were too happy to care.

Luke sniffed appreciatively at the clean cotton scent coming off of Lorelai's hair. That meant tomorrow would be the chocolate-cocoanut one. He smiled in anticipation.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked.

"Anytime," she said, nearly hopping with happiness.

"That first day, when you came to me and asked me about dating. What made you do it?" He gave his head a shake. "I've been curious about that for a long time."

"Sookie really wanted to go out with Jackson," Lorelai recalled, thinking back. "I gave her this whole pep talk about how she could make the first move, you know. She didn't have to wait on him. And the more I thought about it I felt like such a hypocrite, because here I'd had this crush on you forever and I'd never thought about asking you out. And after I gave you that huge opening after the poker night, and _still_ nothing happened, I decided that I should be brave and just take the plunge myself. See what happened."

Luke squeezed her shoulder. "You had a crush on me?" She could hear the note of smugness in his voice.

She stopped walking for a moment and glared at him. "Yes, I had a crush on you, Luke. I did everything in my power to make you notice me over the years. But mostly I think I just annoyed you."

"I noticed you," he said wryly. "I just didn't want you to know that. I didn't want you to know how much I cared."

"Why not?"

"Because I saw the type of guys you went out with. I saw Rory's dad." His fingers pressed into her shoulder as he looked off to the side. "I'm not like them."

"No, because you're perfect," she teased.

"Hardly," he scoffed.

"Perfect for me, then," she insisted with a smile.

That got her another kiss.

"I have a question for you, too," Lorelai said. She drew in a big breath in preparation.

"Shoot."

"The necklace." Her fingers rubbed over the smooth crystal. "When you picked it out, did you know what this one meant?"

"What it meant?" She could hear the confusion in his voice.

"Yeah, you know. Remember how the purple one I picked out for Liz meant 'family?'" she reminded him.

"Oh, yeah," he said. "I just thought this one was the prettiest." He paused for a moment. "So what does this one mean?"

"Love," she told him, catching her breath and waiting.

Lorelai felt him tense up for a moment. Luke stopped, and then he swung her around in front of him. He ran his fingers over her neck until he found the heart, making her shiver. He rubbed the crystal thoughtfully between his fingers.

"Well, it's a good thing it did its job then, isn't it?" he asked, his usual gruff tone laced through with emotion.

"Really good," Lorelai agreed, closing her eyes in relief, waiting for his kiss.

Luke didn't keep her waiting long.

When she opened them again she saw that they were across the street from the diner.

They'd finally made it.

Luke took her hand and she held his tightly as they ran across the street. His other hand was already reaching for the keys to unlock the door.

Their perfect friendship was perfectly ready to become something else.


	8. It's All Fun and Games

Well, we've reached the end of _Just the Perfect Friendship_. I think I've enjoyed it this time as much as I did when I first wrote it. I can't believe how many of you have been reading this story, and I thank you for following along.

* * *

><p><strong>It's All Fun and Games Until the Paramedics Show Up<strong>

The Jeep skidded to a stop across the street from the diner. Lorelai hopped out, casting a glance at the huge angled gap she'd left between her vehicle and the curb, but she decided it meant nothing due to the panic caused by the sight of the ambulance parked right in front of Luke's. She pushed through the small group of onlookers trying to peer through the windows. The flashing lights washed over her as she jumped up the steps and barreled through the door.

It took her eyes just a moment to adjust to the inside dimness after the bright July sunshine outside. She blinked at the line of early morning diners now banished from their tables and corralled against the far wall

Her eyes widened as she rushed by the tableau of the paramedics attending to Miss Patty and Babette. She ran directly to Luke.

He was leaning back against the counter, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. She recognized the look on his face. It was made up of 10% annoyance, 40% cocky unconcern, and 50% worry. She saw the worry lines ease up a little as she rushed to him.

"What happened?" she gasped out as soon as she reached him. She could see he was fine but she needed to touch him anyway, to reassure herself that his arms and legs were still attached, that no uncontrolled bleeding was evident. "I just left here fifteen minutes ago. Everything was fine then! What did you do?"

Luke turned to look at her. "I learned it from you and Rory," he grumbled. "It's not my fault!"

"OK, Han Solo, what did you do?" she hissed, now even more concerned.

Luke sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "Well…"

"…and that's what we've been doin' every mornin'," Babette was explaining to Angie, the EMT currently holding a bag of ice to her plump derriere. "Patty and me walk all around the lake real early, before it gets too hot. It gets the blood pumpin', ya know? Morey appreciates it," she added, salaciously, "don't 'cha, Babe?"

Morey was sitting across from where his wife was bending over the table, holding her hand as the paramedic addressed her injuries. The shades prevented anyone from reading his expression, but his fingers tightened around Babette's, and she grinned back at him.

"Then we come to Luke's for a light breakfast." Miss Patty had removed the oxygen mask from over to face to add that comment.

"Just keep this on, Miss LaCosta. Keep breathing," Jamie, the other EMT, advised.

"Aren't you the sweet thing," Miss Patty crooned to the young man. She obediently placed the mask back over her face.

"So anyways, we was sittin' here, waitin' on Luke to make our food, when Lorelai comes charging out from under the curtain there," Babette continued her narrative, pointing over her back towards the stairs leading up to Luke's apartment. "Oh, she looked so gorgeous! What I wouldn't give to have those legs of hers! Anyway, she was pattin' her hair and tyin' her blouse, and me and Patty was tellin' her how gorgeous she looked and all…"

"The color of that blouse is just perfect on her," Patty added, quickly going back to the oxygen at a reminding look from Jamie.

"So she gabs a minute to us and then she heads up back behind the counter. I remember thinkin' that was pretty brave of her, to go back behind the counter. But she stopped in front of the door to the kitchen. She was tellin' Luke she needed to get home, that Rory'd be home soon…"

"…and you were telling me you were heading home, remember?" Luke said to Lorelai.

"Of course I remember!" Lorelai snapped. "It just happened 15 minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't know you weren't going to stay," Luke complained, looking off to the side. "I wanted to tell you goodbye."

Lorelai's breathing sped up. She leaned closer to Luke. "Suddenly these big, strong arms reached out and grabbed me," she recounted, her voice husky. "Hauled me right into the sacred kitchen space, where I'm normally not allowed."

One of Luke's eyebrows rose as he looked at her smugly. "And I'm pushed up against the wall, being molested. In my own kitchen!" he growled, trying to keep from smiling.

"And you told me goodbye," she added seriously. "A lot!" She sounded very approving.

Luke sighed again. "But then you left…"

"Me and Patty weren't payin' any attention to whatever Lorelai was sayin' to Luke, because we've been tryin' to figure out if it was really possible for Graham― ya know, the letter carrier? If he could be stoppin' everyday at Lisa Kowalski's house. For years he always goes into Betty Kramer's house over on Walnut and has a mug of tea. Everybody knows that. But we heard that Lisa's boyfriend moved out last month, and suddenly everybody over on the east side of town isn't gettin' their mail on time anymore. So we we're tryin' to draw a map to see if that's where the holdup is."

Patty pushed over a napkin with the mail route traced on it, pointing to the 'X' that marked Lisa's house with her fuchsia-colored nail.

"So we was pretty occupied, and then all of sudden, there's Lorelai goin' by again, only this time she's headin' out the door, and she stops and says goodbye to us, and she takes the time to point out that we'd missed where Graham should make the turn onto Poplar."

"And I told her again how gorgeous she looked," Patty added, puffing only slightly. "That coral color just made her look radiant. Her complexion was glowing like you usually only see on a woman who's well-satisfied. You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Handsome?" she purred to Jamie, who ignored the innuendo and silently put the oxygen mask back in place.

"We didn't notice it right away, but she was pattin' her hair and tyin' her blouse all over again," Babette continued. "We kept on working on our map, and, boom! It just hit us, ya know? I stopped everything and looked at Patty—"

"And I looked at Babette—"

"And I looked over at that curtain—"

"And I turned around to stare at the kitchen—"

The two ladies were practically talking on top of each other, so anxious were they to get the story out.

"But we thought we had to be imaginin' it, ya know? Those two have been hangin' around together for months now, with absolutely nothin' to show for it. But then I looked at my watch, and, boy! It was _really_ early." Babette's blond curls bobbed up and down emphatically.

"So then Luke brought us out our breakfasts, and he was smiling!" Patty nodded, her face doing its best to emphasize how uncommon that was. "_Luke!_ He was _smiling_!"

Babette took up the story again. "So I asked 'im, 'Luke,' I said, 'is there anything ya wanta tell us?' And he said, nope, not a thing. But he's smilin' like he knows somethin' really good that the rest of us don't."

Patty nodded, shoving the oxygen mask out of the way. "I said, 'Luke, you and Lorelai aren't dating again, are you?' and that started him ranting about how dating was a disaster for them and they'd never, ever date again." Her breathing started to become erratic and she motioned for Babette to continue.

"So he turns to leave," Babette recounted, her voice getting shriller, "and just before he walks away, he says, 'That's why we decided to just start sleepin' together.'"

"Babe," Morey said.

"That's when I slid right off the chair and Patty started breathin' funny," Babette explained.

"You said _what_?" Lorelai's voice suddenly shrieked from the rear of the diner.

"_You're_ the one who taught me that timing is everything!" Luke roared back at her.

The recently-revealed lovers realized belatedly that their outburst had caused everyone to stare at them. They clamped their lips shut and moved over to a more secluded spot behind the counter, their body language conveying the message perfectly that their discussion was not yet over.

"Anyways, once I got down on the floor I couldn't get back up, and when Luke and Reverend Skinner finally hauled me up it hurt like hell. And Patty turned all gray-like and was gaspin' for breath, so someone called for you guys," Babette finished up.

"It appears you're not seriously injured," Angie reassured Babette. "You're definitely going to be sore for a few days. You'll probably want to use the ice pack and a cushion for awhile, and take some ibuprofen for any lingering pain. But you're fine."

"That's good news, ain't it, Morey?" Babette cackled to her husband.

"Good news," Morey agreed, nodding.

Jamie had checked Miss Patty's blood pressure again. "You appear to be fine, too, Miss LaCosta. You might want to make an appointment with your own doctor, just to be sure. We'll sit here with you for a few more minutes, until you feel strong enough to get back on your feet. Try to take it easy for the rest of the day. No more big surprises, OK?" He helped her take the oxygen mask off from around her head.

"What a sweet boy you are," Miss Patty told him, patting his hand. Before she could do more than give him a brief leer, Luke's baseball cap landed in the center of their table, barely missing Babette's head.

They all stared at it for a moment in confusion before raising their eyes and sunglasses to peer at the scene behind the counter.

It was immediately obvious that Luke's cap had gone flying because Lorelai had knocked it off. Her hand even now was clutching at his head as she was bowed back under the force of his embrace. They were lost in a kiss that obliterated everything else from their minds. It was apparent they'd forgotten that there was anyone else in the room

Kirk stepped over in front of them, partially blocking them from view. He raised his arms and nodded seriously at everyone.

"I can allay your fears about this display," he stated. "Luckily I can read lips. Plus, I was close enough to hear most of what they were whispering to each other. Lorelai was complaining that Luke had no right to expose the fact that they were lovers without consulting her first. Luke told Lorelai that if she had her way no one would ever know. Lorelai said she thought that's what Luke wanted. He said no, he didn't want that at all, the whole freakin' world could know. Please note that I'm paraphrasing there, since there's a man of the cloth present." Kirk nodded towards Reverend Skinner, who sighed and nodded back. "Then Luke told Lorelai that it didn't matter who knew anyway, since they're going to be married just as soon as she says yes."

Kirk paused, looking back over his shoulder at the oblivious, kissing couple. "I think she said yes," he observed, doubtfully.

Bedlam erupted, as everyone in the diner started talking at once. Babette's behind once again would have met the hard wooden floor, except that Morey grasped her arm and held firm. Jamie grabbed the oxygen and fitted it over Miss Patty's face just as she started gasping again, her hand pressed over her heart.

Soon the pressure exerted from a dozen pairs of eyes seeped through to the couple. Lorelai felt it first. She opened her eyes and jumped away from Luke self-consciously with a muffled cry. Alarmed, Luke turned around and his wrath fell on the closest target.

"Get out, Kirk!"

"That's hardly fair," Kirk protested. "I was merely trying to explain—"

"Get out!" Luke yelled again, starting to emerge from behind the counter.

"What about my oatmeal?" Kirk may have been hungry, but he wasn't suicidal. He started to back towards the door.

"Out! Everybody out!" Luke thundered. He shooed grumbling customers towards the door like a line of ducks. "This doesn't concern anybody but me and Lorelai! Out!" He pulled open the door and stood there, glaring while everyone filed out.

Morey paused as he helped his wife waddle out. He stood at his full height, not intimidated by Luke. "Not cool," he enunciated clearly, poking Luke in the chest with each word. "Not cool, man."

Luke's anger swelled and then visibly dissipated. "Yeah," he sighed. "Sorry, Morey. Sorry Babette," he muttered to them.

"It's OK, Doll," Babette told him. "I understand you two need some time alone. Lorelai'll have to tell me the details later."

"She will not―" he started to protest, but then Patty was in front of him, leaning heavily on Jamie.

"This makes me so happy, even though it does mean one less bachelor on the market," she gushed, leaning forward to pat his cheek. Her perpetual smile abruptly quivered a little. "It'd make your mother happy, too, you know," she said in a suddenly raspy voice. She nodded decisively and motioned for Jamie to lead the way down the steps.

Luke gulped down the emotion triggered by Patty's words and watched her descend to the street. He was jerked back to reality when he saw Lorelai meekly preparing to leave the diner, too.

"Oh, no you don't!" he admonished, grabbing her arm and gently halting her flight. "You stay!"

"You want me to stay?" she flirted, adding a hair flip for good measure.

"You know I want you to stay." He locked the door securely and pulled down the blinds.

"I believe the word 'forever' was bandied about," Lorelai mentioned.

"Forever sounds just about right to me," Luke agreed, moving to take her into his arms.

Lorelai smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She settled into Luke's embrace, but didn't really relax. She looked at him, but not straight into his eyes.

Luke cleared his throat. "You know, Lorelai…This isn't the way I'd planned on asking you to marry me." He carefully tucked her hair back and reverently traced the shell of her ear. "In fact, I hadn't planned it at all. It just sort of came out. It's probably too soon—hell, I _know_ it's too soon. If you want, we can just forget it altogether. My feelings aren't going to change about you. You just let me know when you're ready, and I'll ask you again."

Lorelai stared at the little triangle of white t-shirt visible under his flannel shirt. Her lips pursed together in what almost looked like a pout, but wasn't. She was thinking. She was thinking very hard. She pushed away from Luke, who let her go reluctantly. She walked over to the table and picked up his hat.

She took her time, turning it around and around on her fingers. Finally she brought it over to him. She smoothed back his hair and then carefully settled the cap onto his head. She nodded her head, admiring her work. She let her fingers oh-so-gently scrub at his scruffy cheeks until she could hear his breath hitching in his chest.

"I have a question," she said at last, very seriously, meeting his gaze.

"Anything," he choked out.

"When I come home at night, will you—" She stopped, unable to go on. She looked down at the floor, embarrassed that she was so close to tears.

He tipped her chin up. "I'll be there with a kiss and a hug every night," he promised, able to guess her thoughts. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her forehead. "And when you drag me out to the stupid town festivals—"

"I'll always look to see where you are," she vowed. She was truly smiling now, even though she had to wipe a few tears away. "Can we have that as part of the marriage vows at our wedding?"

"I don't know why not. They make as much sense as some of the other things they expect you to say," Luke said gruffly, closing his eyes in what looked like a combination of prayer and relief.

"Maybe you shouldn't have chased Reverend Skinner out," Lorelai said playfully. "Maybe he would have married us today."

"You'd never get married without Rory," Luke pointed out.

Lorelai's mouth dropped open. "Oh, my God! Rory! She doesn't know! Half of Stars Hollow knows—the gossipy half—but she doesn't! Luke, I've got to get home to her!"

Luke nodded in agreement at once. "Just let me shut down the grill and I'll go with you."

Lorelai followed him to the kitchen. "And then maybe some celebratory pancakes, after we tell her?"

"Sure," he said at once.

"And then I think she and Dean are going to Hartford later to see a movie, so if we want to do something else to celebrate…" She let the thought trail off as she made her best sexy face.

He looked up and laughed at her.

She pouted. "You are not supposed to laugh at your fiancée when's she's trying to be sexy."

He grabbed her, held her tight. "Don't you know, Lorelai? You never have to try to be sexy. You just are." To prove it he gave her a kiss that made them both think that the grill was still on.

"Um…I think…I have a kid…somewhere," Lorelai said faintly, when Luke finally let her go.

"Let's go," he sighed, and they started towards the door.

Just as he was about to open it, he turned to her again, a scowl starting to form on his face. "You know, I still don't like all the time Rory and Dean spend together."

Lorelai very gently worked her fingers over his frown. "Luke," she said, her voice full of love and tenderness, "they're just dating. That's all it is. They're just kids. I like Dean; I really do. He's a good kid, and he adores Rory. But this isn't going to be forever, for them. They're just starting out in life. They're just learning about all of this stuff that we already know." She smiled at him, so gently, and shrugged her shoulders. "They're just _dating_."

He drank in the love in her eyes. "I guess," he said reluctantly.

She leaned over to him; let her lips touch against his for just a moment. "But someday, I don't want Rory to date anymore. I want her to find the guy that will be the best friend she's ever had." She smiled at him again. "Someday."

He took a deep breath as love and certainty and a glimpse of the future suddenly washed over him. "I want that for her, too," he said with ultimate conviction.

And then he kissed her one more time before they headed home to tell Rory the good news.


End file.
